


Pictures Of You

by MandyinKC



Series: Of Love & Quidditch [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coarse dialogue regarding sensitive topics such as dubious consent and sexuality., F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-03-24 20:12:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 59,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13818588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MandyinKC/pseuds/MandyinKC
Summary: Oliver Wood has carried a torch for Katie Bell since her 15th birthday, but has never done anything about it. He thinks now might be the right time to change that, but will the war get in the way?





	1. Bloke Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This story was originally posted several years ago on that other website.
> 
> A/N2: So, a village has helped me raise this baby. I would like to thank my beta, Leafia. I "met" her through Project Team Beta and she has been amazing. She has not only cleaned up my story, but pushed me to be a better writer. 
> 
> Thanks to PJ Hope, my friend and "pre-reader." Go check out her work, particularly Dumbledore's Army and a Collection of Days, and leave lots of nice reviews!
> 
> And keeptheotherone for her advice and humoring all my chatter about process. Go read everything she's written, you won't be sorry.
> 
> A/N3: This story is finished. I will be posting one chapter a week on Tuesdays.
> 
> Warning: Coarse dialogue regarding dubious consent and sexuality. 
> 
> Disclaimer: The world and characters (most of them) belong to JK Rowling. The story title belongs to the Cure. (Go check out the song if you haven't heard it already.)

Chapter One: Bloke Talk

Late October

London

"Here," Dougal Wood ordered as he plunked down a tankard of warm butterbeer in front of his little brother, Oliver, "try this and tell me if I got it right."

Most people assumed that Oliver Wood ate, slept and breathed Quidditch. This was, admittedly, mostly true. There were times even Oliver believed it. So, it was a good thing, then, that his oldest brother bullied him into family dinners on a regular basis as it reminded Oliver that there was life beyond the pitch. And that is how Oliver found himself sitting up to the island in his brother's kitchen on his off day one cold and blustery October afternoon.

"Five years of failure about to come to an end?" Oliver asked with a grin. Dougal had been trying to duplicate the Three Broomsticks butterbeer recipe for ages without success. It was becoming a running joke in the family.

"Now, Ollie," his sister-in-law Catriona chided, though it was ruined by the mocking twinkle in her eye. "What would a Wood man be without an obsession and a drive for perfection?"

"Shut it, you," Dougal teased, wrapping his arms around his wife's bulging midsection and nuzzling her neck. "My drive for perfection has benefitted you a time or two, if I recall."

She laughed that throaty laugh that seemed to be reserved for Dougal alone. Oliver rolled his eyes. He was always reduced to an eleven-year-old anytime those two got started with one another. Oliver couldn't count the number of times he'd caught them snogging in the corridors at Hogwarts over the two years that the brothers were at school together.

"Ugh." Oliver grimaced. "It's like watching Mum and Dad kiss."

"Drink up!" Dougal demanded, still rubbing his wife's pregnant belly. "No point in trying warm butterbeer if it's cold."

Oliver did as he was told and shrugged. "Not quite there, mate."

Dougal's brow furrowed. "What is it missing, do you reckon?"

He reached for the tankard as if to take it away, but Oliver held it out of reach.

"I said the recipe wasn't right," Oliver retorted, "not that it wasn't good. I'll just be drinking this, then."

"So, do you think it needs more nutmeg?" Dougal asked.

Oliver's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "What the bloody hell is nutmeg?"

Catriona grabbed Dougal's wrists, laughing up at him. "Does that tankard look like a Quaffle to you, you great ogre? What would Ollie know about it?"

"There's more to life than Quidditch," Dougal responded good-naturedly.

"Merlin's pants, Catriona!" Oliver sputtered, setting down his tankard with a thump. "What have you done to my big brother? Next thing I know, he'll be tending a garden."

"I was always good at Herbology," Dougal agreed with a grin.

"Don't listen to him a minute," Catriona scolded. "He's already talking about getting a nice little cottage back home so this one," she spread her hands across her belly, "can fly about and learn to be a first rate Chaser."

"Second rate, more like, if Dougal's doing the teaching."

A new voice heralded the entrance of the middle Wood brother, Fergus. His dark hair was windswept and his cheeks rosy from the cold, but he was grinning madly. Fergus was the tallest of the three at six foot five, though only by inches. Oliver and Dougal both had burly builds with broad shoulders and chests, making Fergus look like a string bean. Otherwise the three shared the same dark hair and eyes. They'd even have the same Roman noses if Oliver's hadn't been broken so many times that not even magic could realign it properly.

"I thought you were holed up with some bird near Surrey," Dougal grumbled by way of meeting.

Fergus gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Lost interest."

"You or her?" Dougal shot back.

"Both," Fergus replied with a chuckle.

"I'm glad you could make it, Ferg," Catriona intervened, kissing her brother-in-law's cheek.

"Of course you are." He stooped down to talk to her belly. "And what about you, baby boy Wood?"

Fergus stood and shot Dougal a cheeky grin. Oliver sat back and made himself comfortable; he knew where this was going. Fergus had never been able to resist the opportunity to stir the caldron.

Fergus wrapped his arm around Catriona's shoulders, giving her a flirtatious smile. "I still say you should have taken up with me instead of my great ox of a brother, Kit Cat."

Oliver watched Dougal, who folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the kitchen island. Well, this was not a good development for Fergus. If Dougal wasn't going to intervene, that meant he was going to leave it up to Catriona. Oliver grinned.

"One of these days," Catriona said tartly, her green eyes flashing, "some lass is going to get her hooks into you and lead you on a merry chase. And I look forward to the day the great lover falls."

"Come now, Catriona, think of the fun we would have had. I certainly wouldn't have got you fat and pregnant."

Catriona's wand was shoved in Fergus' face so fast she nearly took out an eye. "Out of my kitchen, Fergus Wood, before I hex you into next Tuesday."

Oliver and Dougal were laughing as Fergus held his hands up to shield his face.

Catriona whirled on the other two. "Out, the lot of you! There are too many Wood boys in my kitchen."

"Get used to saying that, love," Dougal smirked, attempting to rub her belly again and having his hands swatted away. "This is the first of many times you'll be shooing Wood boys out of the kitchen."

"Could be a girl," she reminded him heatedly.

"No, no lasses in the Wood family."

Catriona managed to push Dougal and his brothers into the sitting room. Tankards of butterbeer came zooming after them and only their Quidditch skills kept them from being banged in the head.

"'Fat and pregnant?'" Oliver asked. "Really, Fergus, even I know better."

Fergus smiled unrepentantly. "I was just winding her up."

"You'll be apologizing for that later," Dougal said gruffly, eyeing his brother dangerously. "She's sensitive about how much weight she's gained and still has two months to go. You'll lay on the full charm, too."

"Okay, you're right," Fergus acquiesced. "But she looks amazing still."

"She looks like she has a Quaffle stuffed under her shirt," Oliver commented mindlessly, earning him incredulous looks from his brothers.

"Do you ever speak to girls, mate?" Fergus asked.

Oliver rubbed the back of his neck, staring into his tankard. Now that the subject was brought up, he reckoned he should talk to them about what had been on his mind a lot lately.

"Well," Oliver started hesitantly, "there's this girl…"

"Whew! That's a relief!" Fergus exclaimed.

"I thought you were going to say 'there's this Quaffle,'" Dougal laughed.

"I thought he was going to say 'there's this Percy Weasley,'" Fergus added.

Oliver's head snapped up to look at his brothers. Dougal had stopped laughing, and they both wore sheepish expressions. Merlin's pants, they were serious about Percy. Oliver made a face. Granted, he was no lady's man, but he did all right with the fairer sex. Although, the whole lot scared him out of his wits. But Percy?

"Percy?" he demanded disbelievingly.

"Not that we would have minded," Dougal was quick to say. "We like Percy."

"Even if he is a prat," Fergus added.

They were all perfectly aware of Percy's split from his family.

"I like girls," Oliver insisted.

"Good to know," Fergus said. "I thought maybe after Dougal's stag party you might have been turned off witches for life and I couldn't live with that guilt."

"Oh, but you can live with the guilt of getting our baby brother raped, can you?" snapped Dougal, his glower turned on Fergus and his neck turning a ruddy red.

"It wasn't like that," Fergus was quick to say. He shifted in his seat, and having a hard time looking either brother in the eye. "Oliver was more than happy to go off with that woman after I pointed him in the, er, right direction."

"He was too damn drunk to make that decision," Dougal countered angrily.

Oliver sunk down in the sofa in shame. He hated it when the two of them would bring this up. It was a point of contention between them all of these years later and the cause of more than one fist fight. But it was all just a bad memory for Oliver.

"He was no more pissed than I was," Fergus retorted.

"He was _fifteen_ ," Dougal shot back, pointing at Oliver for emphasis.

"And you were sixteen when you lost your virginity, what's the difference?"

"To Catriona. Not some slag with twelve different venereal diseases that I had never met before a day in my life. And did you even—"

"Oi!" Oliver bellowed. "First, I was willing enough, so you needn't worry, Dougal. Second, there have been several girls since, so _you_ needn't worry, Fergus. And lastly, I am not your baby brother. Now, let's never talk about this again or I am going to tell Catriona."

"Just like when we were kids," Fergus complained.

"And that's why you'll always be our baby brother," Dougal asserted.

"In case you forgot," Oliver said, "we have a real baby brother up at Hogwarts right now."

Alex Wood was a first year. Considerably younger than his older brothers, he'd been sorted into Hufflepuff, much to everybody's shock. The only person who wasn't surprised was their mother, who was a Macmillan by birth and a Hufflepuff herself.

"You were our baby brother for ten years before Alex came about," Dougal reminded him. "Some things will never change."

Oliver made a rude gesture that had the desired effect of uniting his older brothers in laughter, even if it was at his expense. "So, as I was saying…"

"Oh, aye, the girl," Fergus said, he was leaning back on the sofa, one foot propped up on the coffee table. "Do we know her?"

"Um, _you_ do, actually," Oliver muttered, he was rolling his tankard between his hands. "Do you remember Katie Bell?"

Dougal looked at Fergus and shrugged. The younger of the two, however, had his brow furrowed in concentration. Fergus was obviously combing through every Katie he had ever met. Oliver assumed, given his brother's reputation, it was a fair number. Then, Fergus' brow cleared and he grinned.

"Sparky?" Fergus asked gleefully. "Oh, I should have seen this coming."

"Who's Sparky?" Dougal asked, looking from one brother to the next.

"She was a little first year during my seventh year," Fergus answered. "Used to come out to the pitch for every Gryffindor practice. Charlie made her our team mascot."

"She was my Chaser after that," Oliver said, remembering the joy Katie had any time she was on a broom. "And no one calls her Sparky."

"Oliver thought she was a right pain in the arse," Fergus laughed. "I should have known!"

"I was fourteen and she was a pain in the arse," Oliver defended. "She talked non-stop, she hopped up and down when she asked questions—which was all the time—and…"

Oliver clamped his mouth shut.

"What?" Dougal asked, sitting forward.

Fergus answered, his eyes alight with mischief, "She had nicknames for him and Percy, if I recall correctly. What was it? Kind of a Muggle thing, I think?"

"Is she Muggleborn?" Dougal asked.

"Aye, she is," Oliver replied, grinning like a dope.

"Mud and Arse!" Fergus said triumphantly. "As in 'Stick in the Mud' and 'Stick Up His Arse.'"

Dougal laughed and leaned back into the cushions, crossing one ankle over the other knee. "I like this lass already. And she was only eleven?"

Oliver scowled. "Well, she's eighteen now."

"I should hope," Dougal said. "How long have you fancied her then?"

"Since her fifteenth birthday," Oliver mumbled.

Both of his brother stared at him silently for a moment.

"And you haven't done anything about it in three damn years?" Fergus asked incredulously.

"She was _fifteen_ ," Oliver replied. "And I was eighteen. Seemed like an awful big age difference at the time."

"And now?" Fergus asked. He had never been known for his patience or his restraint when it came to birds. On the other hand, he'd never been in love either. "She's been legal for a whole year."

"And still at Hogwarts," Oliver reminded him, "and she has a boyfriend."

"I don't see how any of that makes a difference."

"Shut it, Fergus," Dougal said without heat. "So, what's changed? Is the boyfriend gone? She's still at Hogwarts, isn't she?"

Oliver was staring at his tankard again. The boyfriend was still around according to Angelina Johnson. Angelina had her suspicions—shared by Alicia, no doubt—about how Oliver felt for Katie. Therefore, she was all too willing to share gossip about Katie with him. What had changed?

It was the war, he supposed. The Battle of the Ministry some months ago had made Oliver jarringly aware of You-Know-Who's return. Not that he hadn't believed Harry. Of course he did, the kid was a damn good Seeker. But with You-Know-Who laying low and Oliver's own Quidditch career on the rise, it was easy not to think about it.

But after the Ministry? That was a different story.

Two of Percy's younger siblings had been in that battle. Not to mention the rather rude awakening it had been for Percy to see You-Know-Who in the flesh. Percy had broken off with his family over his refusal to believe You-Know-Who was back. (Although, Oliver had his doubts over that. He suspected that Percy was being stubborn more than anything.)

And if his best mate's family crisis hadn't been enough to distract Oliver from Quidditch, his own brothers got involved. Bill Weasley had recruited Dougal and Fergus to the Order of the Phoenix shortly after the Battle of the Ministry. At first, it didn't seem like a big deal, but after Catriona fell pregnant, the war had come into perspective for everyone. Moreover, Oliver knew it was only a matter of time before he became involved. He was starting to feel like less of man for sitting on the sidelines.

Instead of saying all that, Oliver just shrugged and took a swig of his butterbeer. "I don't know."

Dougal was regarding him seriously. Oliver stole a look at his brother from under his lashes. Dougal seemed to be taking his measure and it was all Oliver could do not to squirm under the scrutiny. Fergus was fun and a great mate, but Dougal had always been the type of man that other men looked up to. He was solid and others craved his respect. Oliver was no different.

"You're in love with this girl?" Dougal asked after some time, but it wasn't exactly a question.

Oliver blushed. "Aye, I think I am."

"Bloody hell," swore Fergus with a roll of his eyes. "Another brother lost to the powers of true love. Well, there's still time to corrupt Alex."

"Don't listen to him, Ollie," Dougal said. "I think—"

But Dougal's thoughts were cut off when a silvery lion materialized before them. It opened its mouth and out came a familiar voice:

"Dougal, you are needed at Headquarters as soon as possible. Bring along your no-account brother if you can roost him from whatever nest he's invaded."

Both Dougal and Fergus were sitting at attention. They exchanged glances.

"That's Bill's voice, isn't it?" Oliver asked. "You are being called onto an Order mission?"

Catriona emerged from the kitchen clutching a tea towel. Her eyes were round and her face pale. Even Oliver recognized the worry in her stance.

"You're leaving," she stated. "But we haven't even had dinner. Surely it can wait."

Dougal went to her, tucking a lock of red hair behind her ear. "You know we can't, but keep it warm for us. We'll be back to eat it later."

She threw her arms around her husband, holding him tightly. "Do you promise?"

"I'll be right by his side, Kit Cat," Fergus said, trying for a light tone, but effectively preventing his brother from making a promise he may not be able to keep. "I'll bring his mangy arse home to you, though I don't know why you'd want him. Snores something terrible."

Catriona found a well of inner strength, letting Dougal go. She smiled at him. "Just be safe."

"Of course," Dougal said quietly.

"I could come with you," Oliver offered. "One more wand."

"No," Dougal said. "We need you here."

"I'm pretty good at defense, I can help," Oliver argued. "In fact, I think it's time for me to do more in the war."

Dougal placed a hand on his shoulder. "I appreciate it, Oliver, I do, but I need you here with Catriona and the baby." He looked at his wife and she nodded. "We'd like you to be godfather, if you're up to it?"

Oliver was shocked and humbled. He'd always assumed Dougal would ask Fergus to be the baby's godfather. As different as the two brothers were, they had always been quite close. Closer than Oliver had been to either of them really.

"Me?" Oliver echoed, still stunned. "Dougal, of course. Are you sure?"

Dougal grasped Oliver's other shoulder and said quietly. "We put a lot of thought into it, mate. You and me, we are a lot alike. If anything happens—"

"Don't."

"Listen," Dougal insisted. "If anything happens to me, you'll be there for Catriona and the sprout, aye?"

Oliver wasn't the type to cry, but he felt a weird burning sensation in his throat now. He didn't like Dougal talking about being killed or the possibility that his nephew would be left fatherless. How could he ever fill Dougal's shoes?

"Aye, but are you sure you want me and not Fergus?" Oliver managed around the lump in his throat. "Or Bill even. He's good with kids."

"Fergus is in this with me, isn't he?" Dougal responded. "And I would never ask Bill over my own brother."

"I'll make you proud," Oliver finally answered.

"I never doubted it for a minute."

Dougal went to kiss Catriona goodbye and grab his cloak. It was a matter of seconds and the two older Wood brothers left through the front door. Catriona returned to the kitchen, a pinched look on her face. Oliver thought maybe it was his duty to follow her and try to console her (though he really didn't want to, he didn't do well with crying women). But he found the kitchen door locked and understood that Catriona wanted to be alone.

 


	2. Girl Talk

Same Night

Hogwarts

"Late night owl," Leanne announced. "Must be Angelina."

Up north, two girls were tucked into the Gryffindor common room revising for NEWTS and looking forward to the Hogsmeade trip the next day. The fire in the hearth was roaring, keeping the cold at bay as snow fell outside. The blonde girl, one Katie Bell, opened the window to admit the owl and a howling swirl of snow along with it. She offered a few treats to the flashy, snowy owl before it flew away.

"It's only eight o'clock," she informed her friend. "Hardly late night."

Settling into her favorite chair in the Gryffindor common room, Katie unrolled the parchment. The letter was indeed from Angelina, but the appearance of Harpy had told her that. The great, white owl had been a congratulatory gift to herself when Angelina made the Holyhead Harpies. That had amused the twins to no end.

_Fred laughed, "Angie, aren't you supposed to let other people send you gifts?"_

" _I don't know, Fred," George chimed in, "I'm rather impressed with her choice in gifts. I would have thought she'd buy—"_

" _Shoes!"_

_Angelina gave them a look, eyebrows raised haughtily. "And what do you boys call those fancy dragon hide jackets you bought?"_

" _Investments!" the twins chorused._

Later, Angelina had confided in Katie that she had indeed bought five new pairs of heels. "They make my legs look fabulous."

Katie herself only had one pair of shiny, black heels bought for her fifteenth birthday party. She also had a very nice pair of Doc Martin Mary Janes and a closet full of trainers. Really, great legs or no, she couldn't understand why anyone would wear heels to anything other than a wedding. They hurt her feet, and no one could run in them—at least not without looking like a prat.

Katie turned her wayward attention back to the letter in her hand:

_Dear Katie,_

_I have a game during Christmas hols and I have set aside two tickets for my third-favorite Chaser. Bring the boyfriend if you must, but warn him that if he wears an Arrows jumper, I will turn his hair green. Fred and George have some great new products that do just that._

_I saw Oliver last week. The Harpies vs. United. Don't ask how it turned out. We went out for drinks afterwards. If you thought he was fit when we were in school, you should see him now! Rumor has it that Puddlemere has a grueling practice schedule, and it clearly agrees with Oliver. I think he's even taller, if that's possible._

_Anyway, he asked about you. Turned into a proper mooncalf about it too. If you ever ditch the boyfriend, I think I know a Quidditch player who would love to be your Keeper. Well, have to run. Give Slytherin hell for me (on the pitch, of course)._

_Lots of love,_

_Angelina_

_PS—Alicia says hello, and if you don't want Oliver, she'll gladly have him._

Rolling her eyes, Katie pulled out a fresh roll of parchment. Briefly, after her fifteenth birthday, Katie had fancied Oliver and her friends wouldn't let her live it down. He'd only ever seen her as a kid sister. A pest, more like. Angelina and Alicia insisted this was not the case. They claimed that Oliver secretly fancied her, but she knew better.

For a moment, Katie let herself relive her fifteenth birthday—not the mad party that Fred and George had thrown in her honor or her first kiss with that creep Roger Davies. No, the best part of the night was when Oliver came to her rescue. Well, she'd rescued herself, but Oliver had broken Davies' nose in spectacular fashion. Then he'd walked her back to the common room.

oOo

" _You going up to bed, Bell?" he asked._

" _I'm not really ready to sleep," she replied, and tugged uncomfortably on the form fitting dress she was wearing. "But I do want to get out of this."_

_Oliver looked at her in shock, all color drained from his face._

_Katie laughed. "Well, not in front of you, silly."_

_He made a strangled noise. "I knew that." He cleared his throat and looked at a spot on the wall over her shoulder. "Do you want to play Gobstones?"_

_Katie giggled at the delightfully childish suggestion. She'd gone out that night wanting to be all grown up and that had turned out rather disappointingly. Playing Gobstones was exactly what she needed. She wondered if Oliver knew that. Probably not; Oliver was rather oblivious to the finer human emotions._

" _I would like that very much."_

_Twenty minutes later, she returned to the common room, having washed away the makeup and brushed out her hair. She even went so far as to plait it. She was wearing blue flannel pajamas with penguins on them and fuzzy slippers. Oliver was still dressed, but he'd cleared a spot in front of the fire and was sitting cross-legged on the floor._

_Katie was struck, not for the first time, by how handsome he was. Over the last year, his features had hardened into a chiseled jaw and broad cheekbones. The last time his nose had been broken had left it permanently crooked, which somehow added to his appeal. It was the silky, dark hair that Katie fancied most. She just wanted to run her fingers through it and watch his fringe fall into his brown eyes._

_Oliver looked up and smiled broadly. He so rarely smiled like that; it made her breath catch in her throat to see it. He was just too serious, and that was a shame because she rather fancied that smile too. Not that she fancied Oliver at all. He was her Quidditch Captain, and a proper pain in the arse too._

" _Those are cute pajamas, Bell," he said, that heart-melting smile still on his face. "Are you ready to lose at Gobstones?"_

_She dropped down across from him. "You can't be that competitive."_

_He cocked one eyebrow, looking rather rakish. "Have you met me?"_

_Katie giggled. "Fair enough. But I warn you, I am pretty good."_

" _We'll see about that."_

_Oliver trounced Katie five games straight._

_Finally, Katie threw her hands up in surrender. "Okay, no more. I beg for mercy."_

" _Don't feel too badly. I've beaten better players than you," Oliver said with a boyish grin._

" _Oliver Wood, are you winding me up?"_

" _I'm trying to. Is it working?"_

_She scrunched her nose up. "A bit," she admitted. "How'd you get so good anyway? I can't imagine you taking time away from Quidditch long enough to master anything else."_

_Oliver didn't take offense at her comment. That was something that always impressed Katie about him, that he accepted his madness completely. He was either very self-aware or he didn't realize just how mad he was in comparison to the rest of the population. It was easy to assume that he was oblivious, but Oliver was smarter than he was given credit for. He held his own with Percy Weasley, after all. Besides, the detail and planning he put into his Quidditch plays took a quick and thorough mind._

" _You know Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff?" he asked._

" _He's in Harry's year? Rather pompous?"_

" _That's the one," Oliver said with a cheeky grin. "He's my little cousin and he is bloody great at Gobstones. Well, it has always been a cardinal rule amongst me and my brothers that we never let our Macmillan cousins beat us at anything. So…"_

" _So? So you spent dozens of hours perfecting your game?"_

" _More like months."_

" _Oliver! You spent months perfecting your Gobstones game just to trounce your little cousin?"_

" _What? I was nine," he said as he scooped up two Gobstones and began fiddling with them. "Besides, Fergus and Dougal were away at school so I had nothing better to do."_

_An image of a young Oliver manically perfecting his Gobstones game with the same determination with which he now played Quidditch came to Katie's mind. She couldn't help but giggle. Soon Oliver was laughing too. It was a lovely sound, deep and melodic. It sent shivers down Katie's spine._

" _I know you lot think I'm mental," Oliver said after a while. "And maybe I am. But haven't you ever been passionate about something?"_

_Katie stopped laughing and regarded the young man before her. His honesty humbled her. She had been right: he was aware of his madness, and he accepted it as a part of who he was. She wondered if he'd ever spoken so openly about his love for Quidditch with another person. It made Katie feel special thinking that maybe she was being shown a part of Oliver he had never shown anyone else._

_The longer she stared at him, the more his smile faded. He looked shy and unsure of himself, and that made her heart ache. She never wanted to see Oliver look that way. She much preferred the blazing madman._

The madman is there for anyone to see _, said a voice in her head._ You are being allowed to know the private man.

" _No," Katie finally said, picking up one of the Gobstones. "I've never felt that passionate about anything."_

_He was putting his Gobstones back in their velvet pouch. "You love Quidditch, you love to fly. I can see it every time you are on the pitch. It's why I wanted you on my team. I liked to watch you fly."_

_Katie blinked, too stunned to speak. She scooted across the floor to sit beside him. "Blimey, Oliver, I don't know what to say."_

_Oliver shrugged. "I don't reckon you have to say anything."_

" _Don't you enjoy flying?"_

" _Of course, I do, but…" He stopped what he was doing and looked across the room blankly._

" _But what?"_

" _I think too much," he admitted. "I have to keep my eye on the Quaffle and stay five steps ahead of the other team's Chasers. I have to make sure my team is executing the plays. That everybody is where they are supposed to be. I can never be in the moment."_

_Katie threaded her arm through his and rested her head against his shoulder. "You and I should go flying, just flying for no reason."_

_Oliver looked down at her, a soft smile on his lips. "That would be nice." He pressed a kiss onto the top of her head. "I hope you had a happy birthday, Bell."_

_She thought over the last hour spent with Oliver. She had had a happy birthday. Sure, her first kiss turned out rather disastrously, but the time spent with Oliver more than made up for that. She wondered what it would be like to kiss Oliver. She hid a smile behind her hand._

" _Yeah," she mumbled, sliding the Gobstone into his hand. "It was the best birthday."_

oOo

"Katie…Katie…Kates!"

Katie dragged her mind back to the present to see her boyfriend standing in front of her. Hal Sparrow was a tall wizard with sandy hair and a ready smile, though at the moment, he was looking rather sheepish. They were in the same year and had been dating for almost two years. Katie fancied herself in love with him.

"Sorry," she said, remembering Angelina's letter and crumpling it in her hand. "I was woolgathering."

"So I see," he replied.

She made room for him in the chair and he dropped into it beside her, throwing his arm across the back.

Hal looked at his lap, his brow furrowing. "I have something to tell you."

"Well, don't keep in suspense."

"I got detention—for tomorrow."

"Hal!" she screeched, turning to look at him. "We had tomorrow all planned out."

"I know, I know. But it was Snape and you know how he is."

Katie pursed her lips, but gave in. "I know," she huffed. "He's horrible and –"

"He hates Gryffindors," they chorused, making Katie laugh.

"There's that laugh I love so much," Hal teased. He slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her back against him. "I really am sorry, Kates, I was looking forward to tomorrow."

Cuddling into his side, she shrugged. They'd done Puddifoot's before and she didn't really enjoy it the first time, but they were planning to commemorate their first date. She supposed they were feeling sentimental, what with it being seventh year and all.

"Maybe we can go for a stroll up to the Owlery or something," Hal suggested. "I know it's not the same, but…"

"I would like that," Katie said quickly. "In fact, I have a letter to finish up, so maybe we can meet in twenty minutes or so?"

He gave her one of those broad grins. "I love how you're never fussy, Kates," he said.

She returned his smile and kissed his cheek. A devilish look came into his eyes as he leaned in and gave her a lingering kiss.

"Hal!" Katie hissed, feeling heat prickling her cheeks. She looked around at all of the people in the common room. Leanne was sneaking looks at them and Ritchie Coot and Jack Sloper were openly staring. "Anybody can see!"

"So?" he retorted. "What's so wrong with kissing my girlfriend, hm?"

"We weren't kissing, we were snogging, weren't we?" She shook her head. "I like our private moments…well, private."

Hal leaned in so he could whisper in her ear. "There's a broom closet up by the Owlery that is very private."

Katie gave him a side long look and chided, "Ever the romantic one, Hal." But she dimpled anyway. She knew she'd end up in that broom closet one way or another.

"That's my girl." He kissed her cheek and pushed out of the chair. "Back in twenty."

Katie waved him goodbye. Once he was out of sight, she pulled out her parchment and quill again. She began to write:

_Dear Angelina,_

_The boyfriend and I would love to attend the game. I would love to see my third-favorite Chaser in action. You needn't worry about his jumper, but I warn you: You will rue the day if his hair mysteriously turns green!_

_I saw Ollie over the summer, remember? We all met up at Fred and George's new shop. I am quite aware of how fit he is. I am also aware that he has grown several centimeters since leaving school. Or, as you backwards half-bloods and purebloods say, inches. That does not change the fact that: a. I do not fancy him anymore, b. I have a very nice boyfriend whom I love, and c. Oliver sees me as a little sister._

_Quit meddling. It doesn't suit you. Heading off to the Owlery with the boyfriend. Ta!_

_Lots of love,_

_Katie_

_PS—Of course I'll give Slytherin hell!_

oOo

Catriona had skipped the formality of the dinner table and brought supper right into the sitting room as it was just the two of them. Catriona's Chicken, despite its name, was not her own dish, but a traditional Scottish dish of chicken and vegetables in some sort of spice that Oliver couldn't remember the name of. Catriona liked to make the time-honored Scots meals; it reminded her of home. _That_ he did remember.

Oliver offered to do the clean-up and she didn't argue. He noticed two plates under warming spells tucked away on the counter as he set a scrub brush to cleaning the pots and put away the leftovers. Back in the sitting room, Catriona was curled up on the sofa, hands resting atop the mound of her belly. Oliver went to sit next to her, taking her hand in a brotherly gesture.

"So," she said, smiling up at him, "there's a girl?"

Oliver averted his eyes, feeling his cheeks grow warm. "You heard that?"

"Aye, I did. And I want to hear all about her."

He was reminded of the rest of the conversation he'd had with his brothers and cringed. "Does that mean you heard about…the other?"

She sighed, giving his hand a squeeze. "I did, but you have to know that I already knew about what happened at Dougal's stag party."

"I reckon," he mumbled, still not looking at her.

He _should_ have known anyway, but he'd never given it any thought. Of course, as mad as Dougal had been, he would have told Catriona. They did not keep secrets from each another. Yet, Oliver just felt it was one more humiliation piled on.

"Oliver," Catriona said in a soft, soothing voice. She sat up so that she could look him in the eye. "How _do_ you feel about that night?"

Looking away, Oliver tried to think of ways to avoid answering her question. He'd been very drunk that night. Maybe Dougal was right, and he hadn't been capable of making his own decisions, but Fergus had brought in some old friend of his and she kept touching Oliver's hand and arm and face. The next thing he knew, they were snogging madly, and he'd felt dizzy with lust.

"I was fifteen, Catriona," Oliver said evasively. "You know how fifteen-year-old boys are."

Oliver vaguely remembered that there had been a second witch that was hanging onto Percy. Dougal, Fergus, Bill and Charlie had thought it a great lark to bring the younger brothers along for the night and ply them with drinks. He remembered Bill and Fergus fighting about the witches, even Charlie had sided with Bill. That was when Percy's witch had disappeared and Bill had become attached to his little brother's side like a permanent sticking charm. Percy told Oliver later that he'd been really mad at Bill for interfering, but really relieved at the same time.

"I do, Oliver," Catriona agreed. "And they are a bunch of bluster, they're too afraid to admit that they are scared or inexperienced for fear of looking like less of a man in front of their friends."

"And randy as hell. The lot of them," Oliver put in, yanking his hand out of hers and crossing his arms over his chest. "Ready to go with the first witch to show interest."

Dougal had been drinking early that night and was pissed before they'd set out. By the time the witches showed up, he'd already been passed out in a chamber above the taproom. Oliver remembered wondering, later on, how he'd been left with the reckless brother.

"And you were ready to go?" Catriona asked pointedly, her eyebrows raised.

Oliver sighed, turning his face away from her. "I was willing," he said, repeating the words he'd said to Dougal both the next day and this very night.

"But…"

"I was scared as hell. I'm not even sure how I managed it, except that she was a lot more experienced." Oliver knew he was bright red with embarrassment by that point. He knew that Percy suspected how Oliver felt about the whole thing, but they had never actually spoken about it. Oliver had never spoken to anyone about it, not really.

"And," he continued, glancing at her, "I wish I could have that night back, I do."

"Fergus deserves to be flogged," Catriona snarled.

"He's sorry about it in his own way," Oliver defended, his eyes flicking to Catriona's face. "I think he thought he was doing me a favor. Inducting me into manhood and all that."

"I'm sure he did, the miserable bastard."

Out of the blue, Oliver remembered a History of Magic lesson on Valkyries and he nearly laughed at the absurdity of the thought. Oliver usually lived his life in one mode: single-minded determination usually directed at Quidditch. Occasionally, he allowed himself to dwell on other feelings. Like thinking about Katie late at night or listening to Percy talk about Ministry life, which Oliver decided was code for how much Percy missed his family. Sometimes, he let himself think about the war and let it scare him. At that moment, he felt as if he'd been dragged through twelve different emotions and it was overwhelming.

"Just," he started, "don't tell Dougal all this."

"I'm not going to break your confidence, Ollie," Catriona said, her words were gentler and she took his hand. "I know it wasn't easy for you to talk about. Besides, Dougal and Fergus do not need this between the two of them right now."

A heavy silence fell between them. It was nice that Catriona was in his corner. Oliver remembered being rather pleased the next day at the towering rage Dougal had been in when he found out. Fist fights between the two older Wood boys were not unheard of, but Oliver had never seen Dougal go after Fergus so savagely. In hindsight, Oliver thought that Fergus had rather uncharacteristically backed down and let Dougal do his worst.

Oliver was pulled from his memories by a soft, happy sigh from Catriona.

"Here," she said, a secretive smile playing at her mouth. "You want to see something amazing?"

"Sure," Oliver said with a shrug.

He looked over and Cartriona was lifting her shirt, exposing her firm, white belly.

"Oi! What are you doing?" he exploded.

"Relax!" Catriona snapped. "Just watch this."

Oliver looked at her belly rather reluctantly. Before his eyes, a bump appeared in the smooth mound and moved across her tummy in a rippling motion. Catriona laughed, smoothing her hands lovingly over her belly.

"What was that?" Oliver whispered, his mouth hanging open.

" _That_ was your godson…or goddaughter."

"I know that," he replied defensively. "It's just that…"

He stopped, watching an imprint appear in the wall of her belly that looked for all the world like a foot, complete with five little toes. Oliver had not been much interested when his mum had been pregnant with Alex, though he had felt the baby kick a couple of times. But he'd never imagined actually being able to _see_ the baby move. It was odd and amazing.

Oliver reached out to touch her belly, but realized at the last moment what he was doing. "Um, can I…I mean, is it okay if I…"

Taking his hand, she placed it firmly on her lower abdomen. Oliver felt a thump against his palm. A small smile spread across his face. That was bloody awesome. A pregnant Katie flashed through his mind, causing a shiver to snake down his back.

"Blimey, Catriona," he gushed. "No wonder Dougal can't keep his hands off you."

"Dougal can't keep his hands off me because he thinks I'm hot," she teased, a twinkle in her eye.

Oliver took a deep breath and pulled his hand away. He wanted to roll his eyes. He wanted to tell her she was being gross. Blimey, Catriona was like his sister for Merlin's sake. He'd also like to feel like an adult around his brothers and not like their baby brother. So, he just changed the subject instead.

"So," he said loudly. "What are you naming him?"

"I'm not telling."

"Come on, I'm his godfather," Oliver wheedled.

Catriona's eyes flashed merrily. "You'll just have to wait like all the rest. By the way, it could be a girl."

Oliver shot her a disbelieving look. "We haven't had a girl in the Wood family—"

"In seventeen generations," she finished exasperatedly.

"I think it's more like—"

"But, that was when you pureblooded Wizards were inbreeding. Now that you have Muggleborn blood introduced to the gene pool, anything can happen."

Oliver smirked at her. "Katie's Muggleborn."

"Interesting," Catriona commented, giving him a knowing look. "We talk about babies and you bring up your girl."

Oliver blushed, feeling caught out. "She's not my girl," he denied. "She has a boyfriend."

"So? I had a boyfriend when Dougal started pursuing me."

"You were twelve, I hardly think that counts."

Catriona chuckled. "I was fourteen, thank you very much."

"Still, I don't think it's quite the same thing."

"If you are meant to be," Catriona said seriously, "it won't matter. Love will out in the end."

"Katie was my Chaser," he said irrepressibly. "She loves to fly. You should see her on a broom, Catriona, she's so happy. And she giggles, too."

"Oliver Wood!" Catriona's eyes went wide. She sat up as if to get a better look at Oliver. "You _are_ in love."

He smiled sheepishly, his eyes hidden by thick lashes.

"Well—" Catriona stopped, staring at him. Then, "Well, it's a good thing you are talking to me about it and not your idiot brothers."

"Dougal got the girl," he defended.

'"Aye, but she was a bloody idiot." Catriona laughed. "Seriously, I do have some important advice."

"I am listening."

"Be patient," she started, then stopped. She seemed to be rethinking her words. "I know you have already been patient, Oliver, and I think that is bloody wonderful. I am so proud of you, I can't say."

Oliver blushed. This seemed to be a great night for that.

"Anyway," she continued. "What I meant to say is that Muggles are more cynical about love than Wizards. They don't understand the power of a love connection like I have with Dougal or like your parents."

Catriona had his undivided attention. "What do you mean?"

"Just…It's not common to marry young in the Muggle world, or at least not in the last few generations. Don't be surprised if your Katie is hesitant to understand what is already in your heart."

"Who said anything about marriage?" Oliver protested.

She chuckled. "Oh, Oliver, if there is one thing I know about you Wood men, it's this: You never do anything by half measures. If you love this girl enough to wait three years for her, you'll want a ring on that finger the moment she's finally in your arms."

Oliver made a face. He'd had about all he could stand of all this talk about love and past events.

He harrumphed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Can we talk about Quidditch now?"

"Sure, just let me put my pajamas on," Catriona said, struggling to get up from the sofa. "You can bore me to sleep."

* * *


	3. Chapter Three: Disaster

How long did it take to fetch one bloody Quidditch player?

Angelina Johnson paced back and forth in the small office in the Puddlemere United General office. Her friend, Alicia Spinnet, sat in a chair nearby, seemingly calm except for the anxious looks she was shooting at the door. Twenty minutes had passed since they had received word from the twins at their flat in Wizarding London. Their first instinct had been to rush to Hogwarts.

It had been Alicia who realized that they needed to go to Puddlemere first.

"We have to fetch Oliver," Alicia gasped, snatching Angelina's sleeve.

The two young women exchanged pained looks.

"Merlin,'' Angelina whispered. "He's going to be devastated."

So, here they were in Puddlemere. Angelina was ready to tear the place apart by hand if she had to. The need for action burned strongly in the pit of her stomach, even though she knew it was futile. There was nothing they could do but wring their hands. That drove her mad.

Finally, she glimpsed a dark head and broad shoulders.

Oliver appeared in the office, his brow furrowed in concern. He still had on his navy uniform, though he had shed his pads. There was an air about him, as if he was expecting bad news.

"What's up?" he asked gruffly.

Alicia was standing now, looking at Oliver tearfully. "It's Katie."

oOo

Minerva McGonagall was allowed a moment of privacy in her office, for which she was grateful. It was difficult being the Head of House for Gryffindor, the House of the Brave. Such gallant young men and women passed through her care. Yet, in times of strife, it was hers on the front line.

She knew her duty. She knew she had to appear strong in the face of pain, a pillar in the face of grief. She would square her shoulders and speak softly, but firmly. She would offer strength to the courageous.

That didn't mean, however, that it was easy. Far from it. Her heart had been broken over and over. James, Lily, Frank, Alice, Mary, Benjy, Sirius. All of them her children. And that was only the beginning of the list, a list she knew was yet to be finished. No, it wasn't easy and there were times when she had to delve deep, deep inside of herself to find the strength.

Today was one of those days, as it offered an unexpected casualty. Katie Bell, enjoying a Hogsmeade weekend, cursed. Near death. Merlin, Merlin, that sweet child.

Dumbledore had sent for her parents. Katie was a Muggleborn so special arrangements would need to be made. For a moment, Minerva had been unsure of what she should do. A part of her felt that it should be she, as Head of House, to go to Mr. and Mrs. Bell, yet she needed to be there at Hogwarts. For Katie, for her children. Mercifully, Dumbledore dispatched Arthur Weasley to do it, as he was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, a Muggle enthusiast and a parent.

Meanwhile, Minerva had opened the Floo in her office to concerned friends. Katie was a popular girl, but she had also been a part of Wood's Quidditch team. The professor knew what a tightly knit lot they were. She had just ushered in the Weasley twins, vulgar in their loud work robes. Now she awaited the other two Chasers and Wood himself.

Suddenly, the fireplace flared green. Out stepped Angelina Johnson, followed by Alicia Spinnet and finally Oliver Wood. The girls—young women now—wore expressions that were painfully familiar to Minerva. Tears held in check, faces grim with determination, shoulders squared. Yes, Minerva knew that expression well.

Oliver, on the other hand, was very pale. His eyes were red-rimmed and glistening dangerously. Minerva had known him to be distraught after a Quidditch game, but she had never seen him so stricken. He looked heartbroken. She tried to remember if there had ever been a romantic relationship between Oliver and Katie, but Minerva knew there had not been. For one thing, the age difference was too great for a Hogwarts romance.

"Mr. Wood," she said evenly, drawing herself up to her full height. "Shall I get you a chair? You look as if you are about to collapse."

His dark eyes shifted to her face. "May we see Katie now?" he muttered thickly.

oOo

The corridors seemed unusually quiet as McGonagall led them to the hospital wing. It seemed to Alicia that their old Head of House was rather subdued as well, though the old woman was putting forward a sense of calm that Alicia found steadying.

Oliver was trailing a few steps behind them. He was unusually quiet himself. Not that Oliver was ever particularly gregarious, if you didn't count his long-winded pre-game speeches. But he seemed to have turned inward in the long moments since they'd first told him.

He hadn't cried, though his eyes would have you believe otherwise. Alicia was more than a little worried about him. Anyone who cared enough to pay attention knew how Oliver felt about Katie, and Angelina and Alicia had made it their business to pay attention. It was in the way Oliver watched Katie when he thought no one was looking. The way he paid her extra attention whenever the team got together, hanging on her every word. The way he smiled shyly if Katie touched him.

Neither Angelina nor Alicia could understand why he didn't do something about it.

Now, Alicia could only imagine that Oliver regretted his inaction.

There seemed to be quite a few people gathered in the hospital wing. Dumbledore was conferring with Snape off to the side. Madam Pomfrey hovered nearby watchfully. Fred and George were on either side of Katie's bed. George was consoling Leanne, who seemed completely beside herself. Alicia did a double take when she realized that she had nearly missed Hagrid off in the corner. How did one fail to notice a half giant? Especially one weeping into a handkerchief the size of tablecloth?

George was the first to notice them. He patted Leanne on the back, then hurried over to the newcomers. He embraced Angelina first, of course. If it had been anybody else, Angelina would have kept up the tough girl exterior, but the moment George's arms were around her, she slumped against him. It was only for a moment, but Alicia could see it. Those two had always had soft spots for one another.

Fred was looking at them then, or more exactly, at Oliver. "Hey, mate," he said gruffly, "did you lose a game or something? I haven't seen you look like that since we lost to Hufflepuff back in—"

"Shut. Up. Fred," Angelina snapped; she'd put her armor back on.

The room grew quiet as Oliver moved close to Katie's bed. A bubble of emotion gurgled up Alicia's chest and she gave a small sob. Poor Katie was so still, so peaceful, still dressed in her Muggle jeans and jumper, her blonde hair spread across the pristine pillow. She could have been sleeping, except that it was all wrong. Alicia, Angelina and Katie had had plenty of sleepovers, that was not how Katie slept. Even though she was the smallest of the three of them, she required the most space. This wasn't right.

Without a sound, Angelina threw her arms around Alicia and the two girls pressed their heads together, fiercely taking comfort from one another.

Fred stepped out of Oliver's way. Oliver went down on his knees by the bed, causing the girls to cling to each other harder and the twins to look on in dumbfounded amazement. Oliver took Katie's small hand between his large, rough ones, staring intently at her face. Fred and Leanne fell back to stand with George and the girls.

"Has he—has he always loved her?" Leanne asked in a small voice.

"I came as soon as I could," came a breathless, panicked voice.

Hal Sparrow was at a near run as he entered the otherwise quiet hospital wing. The cluster of five friends, as well as the professors and matron stared at him incredulously. It was as if he were disturbing a quiet, sacred moment. The boyfriend, as Angelina called him, was looking around sightlessly, gasping for breath like a landed fish.

"I-I should have been there," Hal was saying. "If it wasn't for that stupid detention—"

"And what exactly would you have done?" Angelina bit out. "This isn't about you, you selfish git."

Hal's face reddened, anger sparking in his eyes.

Alicia sighed inwardly, only just controlling the urge to roll her eyes.

The twins were watching avidly. Angelina baiting was their favorite sport.

Poor Leanne just looked bewildered.

Oliver, however, was oblivious.

The thing was, Hal was not a bad guy. Alicia knew that and so did Angelina. He just wasn't a six foot three, Quidditch-obsessed Scotsman. That was what Angelina held against him. Worse yet, Angelina was scared and worried and needed somebody to take it out on. There was only one thing for Alicia to do.

"Not now," Alicia hissed.

Angelina didn't seem to hear her friend, as her eyes narrowed on Hal.

"Don't you dare," Alicia said more forcefully, pushing Angelina away, "cause a scene. Show some respect for Katie, please."

Angelina looked at Alicia, sorrow replacing fury in her eyes.

Hal's attention seemed to have switched as well. He was now staring at Katie and Oliver. Alicia didn't know Hal well enough to read his expression. On the other hand, he would have to be dumb or blind to not be able to read the naked emotion on Oliver's face, and Hal was neither.

oOo

Merlin, she was so pretty. Oliver stroked his thumb across the back of Katie's hand. There was a tumult of emotion swirling around inside of him, but he'd managed to squash it down. This was _his_ Katie lying motionlessly in the bed. He could look at her in a way he could never do in normal life. She was always moving. Laughing, smiling, full of energy even sitting down. Now he could look at her and admire the dusting of freckles across her cheeks from too much time spent on the pitch.

He was vaguely aware of the others in the room, that there seemed to be some disturbance. Then, there was another figure by Katie's side. Across from Oliver was Hal Sparrow. Looking not at Katie, but at Oliver with a rather quizzical expression on his thin face. Oliver spared him only a moment's notice. He remembered Catriona's words from last night and realized just how inconsequential Sparrow was.

Love will out in the end.

Sparrow summoned a chair to pull beside the bed. He took Katie's other hand. Oliver felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced up at Fred. He'd brought a stool over for Oliver, which he gratefully accepted.

"What happened?" Sparrow asked.

"I-I don't know," Leanne admitted carefully. "She went to the loo and when she returned she had this package and she was acting strangely. Kept insisting that she had to take it to Dumbledore."

"Do you think she was Imperiused?" Fred asked.

Leanne hesitated. "Maybe? Yes. I think so."

"By who?"

"I don't know," the girl sobbed.

"It's okay, Leanne," Alicia reassured.

"Try to calm down and tell us what happened next," soothed Angelina.

There were a few gulping breaths and some sniffling, then Leanne finished her story. "I tried to stop her. We were arguing when Harry, Ron and Hermoine came upon us. Then, I don't know what happened next. The necklace—that's what was in the package—was on the ground and Katie…"

Leanne let out a wretched sob.

"Leanne, what is it?" Alicia asked in a very quiet voice.

"She raised up in the air, just suspended there," Leanne said in little more than a whisper. They were all straining to hear her, yet they were hanging on to every word. "Then…then she screamed this awful scream. I think she was in pain."

Oliver looked at Leanne for the first time to see the girl was sobbing into Alicia's arms.

"The necklace was cursed," Fred said.

"We overheard Pomfrey and Dumbledore when we first arrived," George supplied helpfully, patting his breast pocket.

"Dead useful little inventions," Fred agreed.

"Anyway, Pomfrey said that only the smallest bit of Katie's skin touched the blasted thing—"

"Through a tiny hole in her glove."

"Any more and she would have died."

There was silence as everyone took in that information.

"When is she going to wake up?" Sparrow asked.

"Pomfrey doesn't know," Fred replied, his voice unusually somber.

"Talking of sending her up to St. Mungo's if she doesn't wake up by tomorrow," George added.

"Is-is she going to die?" Sparrow again, sounding very shaken.

"No," Oliver replied forcefully.

A part of Oliver wanted to throttle the younger, smaller Wizard for even suggesting that possibility. There was too much left to do, to be said, for Katie to slip through his fingers now. Oliver couldn't believe that he could lose Katie before he ever had the chance to show her his love. And more importantly, Katie was strong, she was a fighter. She would come back to him. He stubbornly believed this.

"I'm sorry to disturb," McGonagall said. "Miss Bell's parents will be here soon, and I must ask that you all leave."

"Even me?" Sparrow asked, gesturing to himself with his hand, eyebrows lifted for emphasis.

"Especially you, Mr. Sparrow," the old professor replied dryly.

Oliver nearly smirked at the dumbfounded look on Sparrow's face as the young man got up and shuffled away. The twins escorted Angelina, Alicia and Leanne out. Oliver knew he should follow suit, but not yet. He wanted one more moment with Katie.

McGonagall placed a kindly hand on his shoulder. "You must go, as well, I am afraid."

"May I visit my brother before I leave Hogwarts?" Oliver asked impulsively.

"Your brother is rubbish at Transfiguration," she said. "Still, I was rather disappointed not to have him in my House."

Oliver grinned at his old Head of House. "Alex doesn't have the benefit of studying with Percy Weasley, you might have to cut him some slack."

"Never. Especially if he joins the Quidditch team next year?"

"Chaser," Oliver answered the unspoken question. "You know, I only played Keeper because Dougal and Fergus needed somebody to practice against."

"And so young Alex is a Chaser because you needed somebody to practice against?"

"Something like that."

"I'll have Professor Sprout fetch him for you," McGonagall said gently. "He'll be waiting in the Great Hall."

Oliver nodded his thanks as McGonagall retreated. Once she was gone, the grin fell from Oliver's face. He leaned forward, picking up Katie's hand to press a kiss into her palm, then her wrist. He could feel her pulse against his lips and he was reassured. Katie was strong. She would return to him.

"I'm not done with you yet, Bell," he said softly. "In fact, we haven't even gotten started."

oOo

It felt like being trapped inside a murky, dark pool. Only, it was her own body. She sensed light, heard voices; she even felt comfort and pain, but only from a distance. Though she tried with all her might, she couldn't seem to swim to the surface. It was all frustratingly out of reach.

There seemed to be a commotion. The voices seemed excited or scared. She couldn't make out the words, yet somehow she could feel the emotion. Somebody was frightened.

"No."

The word was very forceful and very clear.

_Oliver._

He didn't sound scared. He sounded stubborn. Katie wanted to get to him, she struggled to get to the surface, but it felt like being in a bad dream. She was trying to get to an ever-moving destination. Blast it! She needed to get to Oliver. She needed to tease him or yell at him or something. Anything to make him relax and smile. He was too serious.

Then all was quiet. Soft voices and soft touches. Oh my, but she was tired after all this.

oOo

It was odd, being back at Hogwarts, Oliver mused. It was even odder walking through the halls in his Puddlemere kit. The students were staring at him, wondering, no doubt, what the hell he was doing in Hogwarts. At least he wasn't being flanked by Alicia and Angelina. It had taken Oliver five minutes to shake the two of them when he left the hospital wing. They were acting as if he were fragile or something.

Once inside the Great Hall, he spotted Alex at the Hufflepuff table with their cousin, Ernie Macmillan, building a castle with exploding snap cards. Ernie spotted Oliver first, he said something to Alex, then waved Oliver over.

Alex turned to Oliver before he reached the table. He blinked at his younger brother, amazed at how grown up he looked. Oliver had seen Alex in late August when Mum had thrown an "Off to Hogwarts" party for him. He'd been as baby faced and runty as ever then, but he looked as if he'd grown a foot since, and filled out a bit too. His face was leaner, more mature as well.

"Hullo, Ollie!" Alex greeted, his voice breaking on his brother's name.

Oliver hid his grin behind his hand, exchanging an amused look with Ernie. So, Alex was going through a whole battery of changes. Poor kid.

"Hey, mate," Oliver said, the tension in his chest easing a bit. "How's Hogwarts treating you?"

Alex very carefully placed a card on top of the castle he was building. "Well, I'm a Hufflepuff like Mum and Catriona."

"Yeah, I got the letter," Oliver replied, trying to read between the lines. He had never been good at playing the big brother to Alex. The age difference was so great that Oliver was off to Hogwarts before Alex was out of nappies. "Suppose that's kind of good though. At least you have family in Hufflepuff, you'd have been lonely in Gryffindor, I reckon."

Alex looked at him. "True, I guess. Although Ernie's a right pain in the arse."

"Hey!" Ernie protested.

"Well, that's no surprise," Oliver said with a wink at Ernie. "The Macmillan cousins always were."

"And he's dead good at Gobstones," Alex complained, truly disgruntled by this. "Beats me every time."

Oliver picked up a card and placed it on the stack. "Well, maybe we can do something about that at Christmas."

Alex's face lit up. "That would be wicked!"

"I'll tell you another advantage to being a Hufflepuff," Oliver said conspiratorially.

"This should be rich," Ernie muttered pompously.

"Badger girls," Oliver pronounced, looking around to make sure there were no females about, "are the best snoggers."

"That's gross, Oliver!" Alex exclaimed with a disgusted expression on his face.

Oliver grinned unrepentantly. "You won't always think so, little brother. And just ask Ernie, assuming that he's snogged a bird or two, that is."

Ernie puffed out his chest, glowering at his older cousin. "That's—Of course—" he sputtered, then he made a resigned sound. "I cannot lie, Alex, Oliver is telling the truth."

Alex made another disgusted face. "What are you doing here anyways, Ollie? You're still in uniform."

Oliver dropped onto the bench next to his brother, but looked to Ernie. It was only a matter of time before all of Hogwarts knew what had happened to Katie, if they didn't know already. The pitying look on Ernie's face confirmed that word was already spreading.

"A friend of mine had an accident," Oliver answered.

"And they allowed you to visit?" Alex asked. "I fell off my broom last month and no one from home was allowed to come to visit me in the hospital wing."

Instead of answering any more questions about Katie, Oliver fell back onto the Wood brothers' old standby: changing the subject via brooms or Quidditch. "You fell off your broom! Have I taught you nothing?"

"It wasn't my fault!" Alex protested. "It was those darn school brooms and my dorm mate was horsing around. Knocked right into me."

"A Bludger is going to knock into you with more force than an eleven-year-old Hufflepuff. Forget Gobstones, it's flying practice for you."

oOo

Oliver was dead tired by the time he reached his flat, only to discover all of his wards breached. This would be alarming, if not for Percy. His bespectacled friend had set the security shields in the first place and, apparently, felt this gave him leave to enter Oliver's flat at will.

Pushing inside, Oliver found Percy hunched over a report at the dining table. "One of these days, Perce, I am going to mistakenly hex you into oblivion."

"I'm better at defense," was the monotone reply.

"I could have a bird with me."

"Well, there's a first time for everything, I suppose."

"You're one to talk. When was the last time you got snogged?"

"Since you have, if my math is correct."

"A real friend would have braved his brothers and come to the hospital wing with me instead of skulking around my flat."

Percy looked up from his report, ignored the jab and said, "How is Katie? The report Scrimgeour had sounded pretty dire."

Oliver got two butter beers from the cooling cupboard. Percy took one, his full attention on his friend. The dark-haired wizard dropped into the chair next to his ginger friend. The two lapsed into a comfortable silence.

When his bottle was half empty, Oliver finally spoke. "It's not good, Perce," he admitted gruffly. "They don't know when she'll wake up…or even _if_ …I really bollocks-ed this up."

Percy was quiet for a long time, which was fine by Oliver. He didn't need to hear any empty words of encouragement, nor commiseration either. Oliver was grateful for Percy's presence and that was enough.

After a while, Percy said, "The way I see it, you'll get her to come out of it. Just keep giving her pep talks about how strong she is and she'll wake up just to smash you over the head."

A snort of laughter escaped Oliver. "Thanks, mate." Oliver leaned his head into his hand tiredly, feeling a strange compulsion to start crying. "Seriously, what if—"

"No 'what ifs,' Oliver," Percy instructed. "The curse hasn't killed her, it isn't going to. We have to believe that. You'll get your chance."

"I don't even care about that," Oliver exploded. "Well, I do, but the only thing that matters is that Katie is okay."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, this is an angsty chapter, but at least I finally got Katie and Oliver in the same room. Despite the heaviness of the subject matter in this one, it was a lot of fun to write once I saw my way forward. I liked writing the different points of view and everybody else's observations of Oliver. Writing Katie's POV was a bit of an experiment. Let me know if it worked.
> 
> Please review. Another chapter next Tuesday.


	4. In Between Times

Early December

"Good evening, Fergus."

At the sound of Percy's greeting, Oliver looked up from where he was exercising Katie's leg to see his brother standing in the doorway. Fergus looked as out of place as Oliver felt in the closed confines of St. Mungo's. Wood boys were not meant to be indoors, or so their mother had said often enough when they were little. But Katie was here and Oliver was determined to be by her side no matter where she was.

"Well," Fergus drawled, rolling his shoulders, "some things never change. Even when everything does."

Fergus' dark eyes were fixed lazily on Percy, who was sitting in the corner of the room pouring over a stack of reports. Oliver realized that the scenario was rather reminiscent of their Hogwarts days. More often than not, Oliver had dragged Percy out to the pitch during practice, where Percy would sit in the stands and study. The ginger wizard only really dug his heels in when it was rainy.

Now, Percy was rolling up his parchment and tucking it into his brief case. "Why don't I get us some tea?" he said, his shoulders tense.

Fergus remained planted in the doorway, leaning on it with seeming casualness, arms folded over his chest. "Is that how you manage to avoid your brothers when they pop in to visit Sparky here?"

Percy's lips folded into a thin line. Oliver knew that Percy waited to come by Katie's room until he was sure that the twins would not be about. He was rather meticulous and efficient at it, like he was in everything he did.

"What makes you think I am avoiding my brothers?" Percy replied, trying to be nonchalant and failing miserably.

"Got a letter from Charlie recently," Fergus answered. "Said you were still a prat."

"Charlie hardly comes around anymore than I do," Percy bristled and Oliver rolled his eyes. One would think, with five brothers, Percy would have learned better self-preservations skills. He plainly walked into Fergus's trap.

" _Charlie_ didn't walk out on his family in the middle of a war," Fergus retorted scathingly. He pushed off the doorjamb, looking like the predator he truly was.

"What do you know of it?" Percy demanded hotly. He was getting properly wound up and Fergus was just waiting to go in for the kill.

"Lay off, Fergus," Oliver ordered in a low, authoritative voice.

Fergus looked at his younger brother in surprise, but then smiled, signaling that it was all over with now.

"I'm just taking the piss, Perce," Fergus said in a friendlier manner. "Really, your brothers are worried about you."

Percy was red in the face and as close to tears as Oliver had ever seen him. The estrangement from his family was harder on Percy than most people supposed. Everyone assumed that Percy was just blatantly power-hungry and had betrayed his family in the name of ambition, but Oliver had the story from Percy's own mouth. The Keeper also had Fred and George's take on it. Percy was wrong, no question about it, but not out of blind ambition. There was a lot of hurt feelings and stubbornness, on both sides Oliver would guess.

There was something else at play too. There had been a change in Percy after his split with his family. Something that had made Percy more vulnerable, but curiously cut off as well. And whatever it was, Percy was not sharing. Though, Oliver suspected it had something to do with Percy's old girlfriend. That relationship had ended rather abruptly at the same time Percy walked out on his family.

"Bugger off, Fergus," Percy growled through clenched teeth. Jerkily, he sidestepped Fergus and stomped out of the room.

"Tetchy, ain't he?" Fergus commented, still looking at the door that Percy had disappeared through.

Oliver bit his lip to keep from saying something he oughtn't. He looked back to Katie on the bed, her foot still in his hand. Purposefully, he bent her leg at the knee, pressing it into her chest then straightening it again, just as the mediwitch had shown him. It was important to stimulate her muscles, but it also helped to prevent bedsores.

"What are you doing?" Fergus asked in a quieter voice. He was standing next to the bed now, hands shoved in his pockets.

"Exercises," Oliver grunted.

"Oh." Then, "What's Percy doing here anyway? I didn't know he was friends with Sparky."

"First," Oliver said tersely, "how would you know? And second, Percy is here for me."

"Aren't you afraid he'll turn his back on you someday, too?"

Oliver stopped what he was doing and looked at his brother directly. "No."

The two of them lapsed into silence. Oliver finished Katie's exercises and started work on the other leg. Alicia must have visited recently, he mused. Katie's feet were freshly pedicured and her toes were painted pink. He liked the pink better than the puke green Alicia had used last week.

"Sparky turned out really pretty," Fergus said after a while.

Oliver looked at Katie's still form on the hospital bed, a small smile spreading across his mouth.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Oliver asked.

"Catriona's gone into labor," Fergus replied blandly. "Mum says it'll be awhile before the little bugger is born so I figured I'd make myself scarce."

Oliver looked at his brother in dumbfounded astonishment, then laughed loudly. "You know, Ferg, when we were lads, I always thought you were the fun brother."

Fergus smiled widely at that. "Yeah?"

"But now," Oliver continued, "I understand why Dougal spent so much time beating the crap out of you."

Fergus laughed good-naturedly. "I'll not deny, I deserved more than half of what Dougal was handing out."

"I can't believe you've been here all this time and just now got around to telling me that my godson is about to be born."

Fergus gave a self-deprecating grin. "Dougal's a bit of a mess, actually. He doesn't know if he should be excited or worried. I think, mostly, he's scared."

Oliver ran a thumb down the sole of Katie's foot, but there was no reaction. He tried to put himself in Dougal's shoes. He wondered what it would be like to see the woman he loved in pain and not be able to do anything about it. He wondered what it would be like to know she was about to give birth to their son.

"Can you imagine having a baby?" Oliver asked Fergus.

Fergus sprawled in the chair beside the bed and shook his head. "No," he replied honestly. "I've never loved a woman like that, you know? How about you?"

Oliver looked at Katie's still face. He could almost imagine that she was merely asleep.

"Maybe," he said gruffly. "Almost."

"You hear that, Sparky?" Fergus said in a teasing tone. He grabbed one of Katie's limp hands and gave it a little shake. "Ollie is already planning your future and he hasn't even declared his love for you yet. You better wake up soon or he'll have diagrams drawn out dictating when and where each of your children are born, what type of brooms they'll get for their seventh birthdays and which position they'll play at Quidditch. If you linger too long, he'll probably name them all after Quidditch players."

oOo

_Laughter_ … She could hear laughter, but muffled as if through water. One laugh had harsh, barking edges, but the other was deep, smooth and achingly familiar, like hot chocolate on a winter's day. That laugh made her smile, made her heart flutter.

_Oliver_.

She wanted to go to him. She wanted to share in his laughter. She struggled to swim to the surface of this dark, swirling pool she was in, but the pool was fathomless. The more she swam, the further there was to go. It was exhausting…

She was sinking into dreams, into memories. Memories of Oliver…

_It was December and Katie was still getting lost in the castle. It didn't help that the blasted staircase had moved and deposited her in an unknown corridor. She rushed over to the wide windows that were alight with bright winter sun. Maybe that would give her a clue as to where in the castle she was._

" _Looks like we've got a little firstie far from home," said a sneering voice._

" _And poor ickle baby is awl awone," replied another mocking voice._

_Instead of feeling relieved, fear snaked down Katie's spine. Nobody had ever made her feel that way before. Back home, she'd been known to be fearless amongst the neighborhood boys. Yet, instinct told her not to show a moment's weakness to whomever was standing behind her. Squaring her shoulders, Katie whipped around to face two Slytherin boys. Fourth years, she would guess._

_She smiled brightly. "I got turned around," she admitted, speaking quickly. "Can you point me in the direction of the Gryffindor common room?"_

" _Please," said the one boy, brows raised haughtily._

_Katie's brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"_

"' _Can you point me in the direction of the Gryffindor common room…_ please _,'" he repeated, crossing his arms and directing his next comment to his companion. "Honestly, Flint, these Gryffindors. No manners whatsoever."_

" _It's all that dirty blood," sneered the boy called Flint. He had big teeth and a small forehead._

_Katie didn't understand that comment, but she knew an insult when she heard one. Her hand clutched her wand in her pocket. She bristled, but stayed quiet, watching for her moment of escape. True, they were bigger, but she was willing to bet that she was faster._

" _So, what are you?" drawled the first boy. He might be handsome if he weren't so stuck up. "A mongrel half-blood or a Mudblood?"_

_Katie's hand twitched around her wand. The only word in that sentence she understood was "mongrel" and that seemed reason enough to hex this git to next Tuesday._

" _What's wong? Poor wittle baby can't talk?" taunted Flint, he reached out as if to touch Katie's cheek._

" _Stop!" Katie spat, slapping Flint's hand away with one hand and pulling her wand out with the other._

" _Need someone your own size to pick on, Davis? Flint?"_

_Katie looked past the Slytherin boys to see Oliver Wood and Percy Weasley. Her knees turned to jelly out of relief at the sight of the two tall, fourth year Gryffindors. They both looked windblown, brooms hoisted on their shoulders._

_It was laughable to call Oliver and Percy the two Slytherins' "own size." Though they must be of an age, the Gryffindors were a head taller and Oliver was distinctly broader. Katie had always thought Oliver rather annoying, but right now he looked like a knight in shining armor right out of a fairy story. She moved away from the windows to go to Oliver's side, but the one called Davis blocked her path._

_Instantly, Oliver and Percy dropped their nonchalant stances, brooms coming off shoulders, wands out. Katie looked up at Oliver; he was glowering at the Slytherins, his face a mask of anger. Percy appeared calmer, but wary. She'd seen both boys wound up before, but not like this._

" _Wood," Davis sniffed, a sneer making his face ugly, "a disgrace to Purebloods, but at least you are not blatant Muggle-loving, blood traitor trash like Weasley."_

" _Budge up!" Katie yelled before setting a stinging hex on the Davis boy's hand. He yelped and hopped aside. Percy shot a spell at Flint, causing him to trip. The ginger boy grabbed Katie by the arm and pulled her to his side._

_Davis recovered, his face purple with rage. "You dirty little Mudblood!" he yelled, pointing his wand at Katie._

" _Protego," Percy said, and with a lazy flick of his wand a shimmery shield formed in front of them. Oliver threw a hex at Davis before tossing his broom to Percy. The ginger boy caught it smoothly with one hand._

" _What?" he said when he saw Katie staring at him. "Just because I don't play Quidditch doesn't mean that I don't have hand-eye coordination."_

" _Okay," she replied skeptically._

_Oliver was dueling both Slytherins now. The corridor was lit up with colorful jinxes and hexes. Katie was impressed by the number of spells Oliver knew, as well as his athleticism. She'd seen him on a broom, but he was just as quick and agile on his feet._

_A spell zinged past Oliver's shoulder, narrowly missing him. Katie squeaked, bouncing on the balls of her feet._

" _Aren't you going to help him?" Katie demanded, tugging on Percy's arm._

" _Don't worry," Percy said, but his face was watchful and his muscles tense. "Oliver can handle those two."_

" _What's a Mudblood?" Katie asked suddenly._

_Percy looked at her once, then again. A little crease formed between his brow and he asked, "What did you say?"_

" _That boy called me a 'Mudblood,'" she explained. "What is that?"_

_Percy looked at Katie fully, his eyes a little sad behind his glasses. Then he launched into a long-winded explanation. Katie could only blink at him as he spoke of Purebloods and Muggleborns. Something about Salazar Slytherin and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Finally, he explained that some Purebloods hated Muggleborns because they believed them to be a taint on magical blood. 'Mudblood' was the not nice word the Purebloods called Muggleborns._

" _So," Katie said slowly, "it's racism?"_

_It was Percy's turn to blink. "Well…yes."_

_Katie looked back to the dueling boys. Flint was floundering on the floor, obviously hit with a Jelly Legs Jinx. Davis and Oliver were still trying to outdo one another. They were, perhaps, evenly matched magically, but Davis didn't have Oliver's stamina. The Slytherin was winded and slow, while Oliver was still fresh. Katie tried to digest the idea that the handsome Davis hated her because her parents were different than his._

_Then she wondered how much trouble she'd really been in before Percy and Oliver showed up. Would the Slytherin boys have hurt her? She edged closer to Percy._

_Suddenly, another shield charm materialized between the two duelists. Both boys lowered their wands and stepped back. Everyone in the corridor followed the origin of the spell to Professor Snape. Katie felt her fear kick up another notch._

" _Dueling," Snape drawled, looking down his nose at the students. "In the hallways?"_

_Davis smirked, his stance cocky once more._

" _Please, Professor," Percy began, his voice slightly oily, "Oliver and I came upon Davis and Flint harassing little Katie Bell. We were only coming to her defense."_

_Katie scowled at the word 'little.' She felt a hand clamp down on her shoulder and looked up at Oliver. His expression was impassive, but he gave her a quick wink._

" _What," Snape asked, his dark eyes trained malevolently on Katie now, "were you doing in this corridor, Miss Bell."_

_Katie gulped, but looked Snape in the eye nonetheless. "I was lost, sir."_

" _I see." He paused. "These two young men stopped to help you?" He indicated Davis and Flint, who was still a mess on the floor._

" _No. I mean, I don't think so."_

" _Either they did or they did not. Which is it?"_

" _They were mocking me," Katie replied, sounding like a tattletale._

" _I see. So, of course you had to call your fellow…Gryffindors to defend your fragile ego?"_

" _What?" Katie gasped. "How did you…That's not what I…What do you…"_

" _They called her a Mudblood," Oliver stated darkly before adding, "sir."_

_Snape raised his eyebrows. "Name-calling is justification for a duel, Mr. Wood?"_

" _That's not name-calling," Percy exclaimed. He'd dropped the oily voice, his face set in stubborn lines._

" _Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape declared, "from each of you. And I will see you in detention on Saturday. All three of you."_

" _But that's not—" Katie's objection was cut off by Oliver's hand over her mouth. She glared up at him, but he only grinned._

" _Come, Davis, Flint," Snape commanded, turning on his heel and striding away. Davis performed the counter jinx on his year mate, then the two slithered away after their Head of House. Davis shot one last smirk over his shoulder at the Gryffindors._

" _Well," Oliver said when the Slytherins were out of sight, "that could have been worse."_

" _Worse?" Katie demanded, whirling on the bigger and, in her opinion, thicker boy. "We got thirty points deducted and detention! Snape is such a…such a…"_

" _Well, precisely," said Percy. "Snape obviously thought we were in the right of it or he would have been much nastier."_

_Katie gaped at this twisted piece of logic._

_Oliver tugged on her pigtail. "You aren't going to cry, are you?"_

_Katie scowled and slapped at his hand. "No! I'm not a baby."_

" _But you are a girl."_

oOo

It was late the next day when Oliver and Fergus Apparated into Red's Wood, the home they had grown up in. It was a few acres of woodland at the base of a mountain with a great white, clapboard house sitting atop a small hill. In the spring, the ground would be covered in heather as far as the eye could see. In the winter, however, it was a blanket of snow.

For a moment, both young men stood in the clearing and stared up at the house on the hill, a curl of smoke rising from each of the three chimneys. It had been a good place for four active boys to grow up. Plenty of room to run and play and fly.

Fergus clapped Oliver on the back. "C'mon, little brother, race you."

Fergus took off at a dead run. Oliver laughed, his breath hanging in the air. He Disapparated, reappearing as close to the house as the wards would allow. He could hear Fergus jeering from behind him, but Oliver didn't spare his brother a thought as he raced up the hill. He knew better than to waste the advantage.

It was neck and neck in the end. Fergus had always been fast, plus he'd hit Oliver with an Impedimenta jinx causing him to trip. The boys tumbled through the back door into the kitchen, laughing and shoving each other, accusations of cheating being tossed about loudly.

"Hush, boys!" Roberta Wood admonished from the doorway. "Catriona is sleeping."

"Hi, Mum!" her sons chorused raucously.

"Why do I try?" she muttered, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

The boys crowded around her, kissing her cheeks and making her huff more.

"That's why you had Alex, remember?" Fergus said with his devil-may-care smile. "Because we are lost causes."

"Well," she said, a twinkle in her eye, "I had to get it right eventually, didn't I?" She bustled out of the kitchen, calling behind her, "You look pale, Oliver, you aren't spending enough time outside."

As their mother disappeared into the main part of the house, Dougal clattered down the back stairs. His face split into a wide smile at the sight of his brothers. He gave them back-thumping hugs, his joy and pride radiating from him.

"How's Catriona?" Fergus asked.

"Beautiful," Dougal replied, a little breathless. He still had that wide grin on his face. "Wonderful. So amazing."

Fergus and Oliver exchanged looks. Their older brother had definitely gone 'round the twist.

"And my godson?" Oliver asked

"It is a boy?" Fergus asked.

"Of course," Dougal responded. "He's big and has a powerful set of lungs."

"How big?" Oliver asked, trying and failing to remember how big Alex was when he was born.

"Eight pounds, ten ounces."

Oliver's brow furrowed. "That doesn't seem very big. That old kneazle we had as kids was bigger."

Dougal chuckled. "It's big for a baby. He's like a little ham." His smile faded a bit and he added, "But don't tell Catriona I likened our son to a ham."

Fergus and Oliver laughed. Hufflepuff she may be, but Catriona had that fiery, ginger temper. They had all been on the receiving end of it at one time or another and none of the brothers wanted to brave it again.

"And does he have a name?" Fergus asked.

That joyful smile returned. "Aye, that he does. Come upstairs and I'll introduce you."

They followed Dougal up the stairs silently. Dougal instructed them to be as quiet as possible so as not to disturb Catriona, who was supposed to be resting. They crowded into the little room that had been Dougal's growing up. All the trappings of childhood were long gone, replaced by a double bed and striped wallpaper, a sensible rocking chair in the corner and a bureau on another wall. Newly added was the small cradle that each of the lads had passed through as babies.

Catriona's flaming hair could be seen peeking out from under the blankets. Dougal cast a sound dampening charm over his sleeping wife. Then he went to the cradle and scooped up a blue bundle that was indeed the size of a small ham. Dougal looked down at the little person he held in his arms, his smile softening but still full of pride.

"Lads, I'd like to introduce Campbell Douglas Wood, future Chaser for Gryffindor."

"Campbell?" Fergus asked.

That was Catriona's maiden name. She was apparently related to some hoity toity Muggles.

Fergus peered at the baby in his older brother's arms, a smile spreading across his face. "Poor bugger looks like you, Dougal."

"But for the red hair."

"Looks like a damn Weasley. You didn't leave her alone with Bill, did you?"

"I always had a thing for Charlie, not Bill."

The three men looked over to the new mother in the bed. Only her face was visible under the covers, but she was smiling contently.

"Sorry, babe," Dougal said sheepishly. "We didn't mean to wake you."

"You were always pants at Charms, love," she replied good-naturedly. "It's why Filch kept catching us all over the castle when we were in sixth year."

Fergus chuckled. "I remember that. I also remember the Howler Mum sent when they finally wrote her about your many indiscretions."

Dougal gave them a dark look, then turned to Oliver. "Come meet your godson, Ollie."

Oliver edged closer to Dougal and the baby, feeling ridiculously large in the small room. Oliver looked down at the blue bundle in his brother's arm. A scrunched up, little face was just visible from the blankets, a dusting of red curls on the baby's head. Oliver didn't care what Dougal said, the baby was small. Tiny, even. He couldn't believe that this red and runty person would ever grow into a strapping lad like himself and his brothers.

"Do you want to hold him?" Dougal asked.

Oliver looked up with a stricken expression. "No! Er, I mean…what if I dropped him?"

Fergus laughed outright, but Dougal just grinned and said, "When was the last time you dropped a Quaffle?"

Catriona snorted. She was sitting up in bed now, trying to put her hair in order. "Really, Dougal, are you comparing our son to a Quaffle?"

"You missed it when he compared him to a ham," Fergus added helpfully.

Dougal shot Fergus a dirty look, but otherwise ignored him. "Sit down, Ollie, you'll be fine."

Oliver did as he was told, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. Dougal brushed a kiss along the baby's hair before settling him into Oliver's arms. Up close, he could see one wee hand peeking out of the blankets. The baby was warm and solid against his chest, much more so than Oliver would have guessed.

"So, Campbell, huh?" he said in a near whisper.

The baby—Campbell—opened his eyes. They were a cloudy blue and were staring up at Oliver intently. Feeling a little more capable, Oliver stroked the baby's hand with one finger. Campbell flexed his little fingers, then wrapped them around Oliver's. He had a good grip; he might just be a Chaser yet.

"Hello, Campbell," Oliver whispered. "I'm your godfather, Uncle Oliver. I'm going to buy you your first broom." He looked up at his brother. "When can he ride a broom?"

Everybody laughed, but it was Catriona who answered, "Maybe next Christmas. They have those little toy brooms. Now, give me my baby."

Campbell's little face crumpled and he let out a lusty squawk. Dougal took the baby from Oliver, lifting him up to broad shoulder and patting his back. The baby's cries became more insistent as he rubbed his face uselessly against his daddy's neck.

Dougal put his little son in his wife's waiting arms. Catriona's smile was radiant as she looked at the squalling child. She seemed to have eyes only for the babe. "My beautiful boy," she murmured as she rearranged her nightdress. Dougal joined them on the bed, one arm around Catriona and a hand cradling the baby's head. The three of them seemed to be in a world all their own.

Fergus nudged Oliver, nodding his head towards the door. Quietly, the two of them slipped out of the room. For a moment they were quiet as they stood on the other side of the door. Oliver wondered if Fergus felt as humbled as he did. Their brother was a _father._ He had a _family_ of his own.

oOo

Christmas came with no change in Katie's condition. Oliver had busily bought out Troopin's Toy Emporium, despite Fergus and Percy's objections that a two-week-old baby did not need any toys, let alone an entire toy store full. Oliver ignored them, but he didn't mention the tiny Puddlemere jumper he'd bought, or the Puddlemere scarf and hat. Or the mittens.

Before going to Red's Wood for Christmas, Oliver came to visit Katie on Christmas Eve. The room had exploded with Christmas decorations and Weasley Wizard Wheezes products. The twins were producing tinsel all over the room. Lee Jordan was hanging mistletoe and trying to angle the mediwitches under it as they came in. Angelina and Alicia were decorating a tree. Even Katie was decorated, with tinsel in her hair and her toes festively painted.

"Happy Christmas, Wood," George called when he saw his old team captain in the doorway. "Is that for me, you shouldn't have."

Oliver was clutching at stuffed lion in a Puddlemere jumper. He'd bought one for Campbell, but decided that Katie needed one too. "Not for you, Weasley. It doesn't explode."

"Shame, that," Fred said.

"Criminally sentimental, ain't he, lads?"

"Fergus!" the twins shouted at once. Fergus had always been popular with the twins and vice versa. This had once been the bane of Percy's existence, Oliver recalled. Charlie's too, as he was never quite as wild as Fergus.

"I think it's nice," snipped Alicia, always the peacemaker, as she came over to kiss her old captain's cheek. "Happy Christmas, Oliver. Join the party."

Fergus glanced at Alicia, then again, blinking rather dumbly. "Are you…little Alicia Spinnet?"

Alicia looked Fergus over, then stuck her nose in the air. "I may have been thirteen the last time I saw you, Fergus Wood, but I still remember your reputation."

She turned on her heel, dark hair flying, and marched back to the tree. Angelina and Alicia threw suspicious looks at Fergus, then turned to each other whispering furtively. Oliver grinned at his brother's stunned face. Wait until he told Dougal!

"They're called 'nice girls,'" Lee Jordan said with commiseration. "Impossible to get with, they are. I should know!" He shot Alicia his own look of longing.

"If by 'get with' you mean dumping pails of water on my head, I think you have a thing or two to learn about flirting, Jordan," Alicia shot back.

"Yeah," Fred said, "they much prefer frog spawn in their fancy shoes, right, Johnson?"

"Eat slugs, Weasley," Angelina replied in a bored tone.

Everybody laughed as Fred dodged behind a chair, until he realized that Angelina did not, in fact, have her wand in hand.

"What kind of protection was that chair offering, brother?" George demanded.

"Yeah," Lee chimed in, "are you a Wizard or not?"

"Laugh it up, boys," Fred retorted. "You won't even see me coming when it's your turn."

Oliver went to Katie's bedside, setting the lion by her blonde head. Sometimes he wanted to lean in and kiss her cheek, but it always seemed awkward so he didn't. Instead, he ran his knuckles softly down her pale cheek.

"She hasn't changed a bit since they took her from Hogwarts."

Oliver looked up, realizing that Leanne was sitting on Katie's other side. Despite her festive sweater, she was not joining in the holiday revelry. Tears were shimmering in her eyes and she was clutching Katie's hand. Oliver realized that of all of Katie's friends, Leanne was the one who had seen her the least, being stuck up at Hogwarts. She had not grown accustom to seeing Katie in her deep sleep.

"No," Oliver concurred. "But we shouldn't give up hope, especially this time of year. Katie's tough. She's a tomboy. She would never let something as silly as a necklace get the best of her."

"Yeah, I reckon." Leanne sniffed. "The Quidditch team played without her. Dean Thomas played in her place. It was so weird to see Gryffindor on the pitch with no Katie."

Oliver didn't add anything to that. He rather agreed with Leanne on that account.

"So, where's Sparrow?" he asked gruffly.

Leanne's frown deepened. "He told me when we left for break that he didn't think he was _strong enough to handle Katie's condition_ ," she said sneeringly. "And that he hated to admit it, but he was _afraid she would die and he didn't want this to be the way that he remembered her._ It's all right here in this letter. His 'deep love' and 'sorrowful regret.'" She rolled her eyes. "Prat."

"I think that's putting it nicely," Oliver agreed.

A myriad of emotions were warring inside of Oliver. On the one hand, Sparrow was a complete arsehole. Breaking up with a girl in a coma was bad enough, but assuming she would die made Oliver want to rip him from limb to limb. On the other hand, the boyfriend was out of the picture. His path had been cleared.

oOo

It was a party. She could hear voices and laughter in the distance. Maybe they had won a Quidditch game? No, that wasn't right? A faint light was visible at the break of the black mass she was wading in. She moved towards it with powerful kicks, strong strokes. The surface, the light, was just out…of…reach…

_How many times had Oliver told them how good it would feel when they won the Quidditch cup? Well, he was absolutely right. Suddenly, all those early morning practices seemed like a small price to pay. Katie thought of the look on Oliver's face when Harry had caught the Snitch. Total and utter bliss, mingled with pride and awe. Her first thought had been to be happy for_ him _. He had achieved what he had worked so hard for._

" _Hey, Bell," yelled Fred._

" _You see our Captain anywhere?" George bellowed._

_Katie looked around the common room, which had turned into a regular bacchanalia, but saw no sign of Oliver anywhere. How could she have missed the fact that he had disappeared from the party that really should've been in his honor? It was his dedication that had gotten the team the House Cup. She wondered around, asking a few people if they had seen him._

_Finally, she screwed up her Gryffindor nerve and peeked into the boy's dormitory. Sitting on the stairs with a bottle of fire whiskey between them were Oliver and Percy. The serious, ginger haired Wizard was stripped down to his undershirt, his curls were disheveled and his glasses askew. Katie barely kept her laughter in. She had never seen Percy like this before. Oliver, by contrast, looked much more sober even though he was also in his undershirt and his hair was standing on end as if he had been pushing his hand through it._

" _What are you two doing, hiding away up here?"_

" _Well, Percy is being a spoil sport, as usual," Oliver replied with a small grin._

"' _m not," Percy denied._

" _He's making sure no Gryffindors escape to the boys' dormitories for any private celebrations."_

"' _m not," Percy said again. "I was just explaining de—the importance of…something."_

_Oliver rolled his eyes. "Percy is a very serious drunk."_

"' _m not." Percy leaned his head on Oliver's shoulder._

_The dark-haired Wizard made a face and pushed his friend off. "He is also a very affectionate drunk."_

" _I was tinking—thinking of Penny," Percy announced._

" _Not while you were leaning on me, I hope," Oliver said._

" _Noooo," Percy said on one, long breath. "'m going to marry her, I am."_

" _Well, not tonight, mate." Oliver looked at Katie. "Help me get him up to bed, will you? He would_ die _if the twins saw him like this."_

_Oliver stood, which seemed to unbalance Percy. "C'mon, mate, off to bed with you." He hoisted his friend up and Katie sidled up on Percy's other side._

_Percy looked at her, "Little Katie Bell," he said, his head swinging back to Oliver. "Look, Ollie, it's little Katie Bell."_

_Katie giggled._

" _You got pretty," Percy said._

" _Shut it, Perce," Oliver warned._

" _Oliver thinks so too," Percy said, seemingly deaf to his friend's admonishments._

_Katie shot a look at Oliver. He seemed to be blushing in the dim light of the stairwell and definitely glowering at Percy. "Is that so, Oliver?"_

" _Well, I'm not blind," he muttered._

" _But you're a baby," Percy continued._

" _What?" Katie demanded._

" _Just a baby," Percy sighed. "But your bosom turned out nice."_

" _My…?" Katie looked down at her chest, then up at Oliver who was definitely beet red._

" _Shut. Up. Percy," he growled._

" _I was just…"_

" _Thinking about Penelope," Oliver supplied helpfully._

" _Penny," Percy echoed, shutting his eyes blissfully._

_Finally, they reached the seventh year boys' dorm. Katie was very curious to see it. She had never been in the boys' dorms before. And, well, it was Oliver's room. There was something very exciting about seeing the bed where he slept._

_The room was rather disappointingly like the girls' dormitories, except it was messy and it smelled. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of gym socks and boy sweat. Percy's bed was easy to find-it was the only one that was neatly made. The bed next to it was a bit austere. The bedcovers were thrown up rather haphazardly, as if the owner had made it rather hastily. The trunk at the end was neatly arranged, but the lid stood open and a stack of books could be seen on one side of the tray and broom cleaning supplies on the other. There were no Quidditch posters, as Katie had expected. Instead there was a cluster of framed photographs on the bedside table._

_They dumped Percy onto his bed, but he tried to get up again._

" _Stay put, mate," Oliver said, "or I'll Stun you."_

" _I should go visit Penny," Percy slurred._

" _You'd get lost in the castle and we'd never find you again. How would you like that to be your legacy as Head Boy?"_

" _That-that would be hu-hum-embarrassing."_

_Katie giggled at drunk Percy. She'd forgotten that he could be fun. They'd spent a lot of time together her first year, watching Quidditch practices. Mostly, Percy had been revising while sitting in the stands, but sometimes she could get him to tell her about Quidditch or the Wizarding world. He'd been mostly long-winded, but occasionally dryly funny. What she really remembered was how Oliver and Percy would horse around after practice, joking and cheerfully making fun of one another._

_While Oliver was making sure that Percy was safely in his bed and not likely to choke on his own vomit, Katie wondered over to Oliver's bedside table. "You're a good friend," she said, picking up a picture taken earlier that year of the Quidditch team._

_Oliver shrugged. "Percy's done the same for me, I reckon."_

" _I didn't realize that you and Percy were still such good friends. I never saw you together much after first year and Percy never came to practices anymore."_

" _What? Oh, you mean your first year," Oliver said distractedly. "Well, the next year was our fifth year, wasn't it? We had OWLs and Percy was Prefect and I was Quidditch Captain. We were both feeling the pressure, I guess."_

" _Is this your family?" Katie held up a picture of a bride and groom flanked by Oliver, Fergus, an older wizard and witch and a little boy._

_Oliver walked over to that side of the bed. He was standing right behind her, so close that they were nearly touching. He reached around her and took the photo frame, their fingers brushing. Katie sucked in a breath, every nerve in her body attuned to how near his big, muscled form was to hers._

" _Yeah, that's my oldest brother, Dougal, and his wife Catriona," he said, pointing to the bride and groom. Dougal looked a lot like Oliver. "They were gone by the time you got to Hogwarts. My mum and dad, obviously. And the squirt is my youngest brother, Alex."_

" _I didn't know you had another brother."_

_Oliver shrugged, she could feel it rather than see it as his chest brushed against her back. A shock of desire zinged down her spine. She shifted restlessly, bringing their bodies into fleeting contact once more._

_Much to Katie's disappointment, Oliver stepped away. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before she turned to face him. At least she wasn't prone to flaming blushes. That was the last thing she needed, to betray her silly crush on him._

_Finally, feeling in control of herself, Katie turned to Oliver who was still clutching the frame. She smiled brightly and he returned it. Back to normal. Thank Merlin._

" _Alex is ten years younger than me," he said as if their conversation had not missed a beat. "I only ever see him at Christmas and over the summer. I'm not an older brother like Dougal and Fergus are older brothers to me. I'm more like an older cousin."_

" _I bet Alex doesn't think so," she replied._

_Oliver shrugged and set the photo on the bed. "Why don't we go out in the corridor before Percy starts snoring?"_

_He motioned to the door and Katie preceding him onto the landing. Once there, she sat on the top step. Oliver dropped down beside her, a respectful distance between the two of them._

" _So," she said, "why are the two of you hiding up here? Everybody is looking for you."_

_Oliver propped his forearms on his knees and leaned forward. "I reckon I needed time to process it all. I've been working towards the House Cup for so long and I've finally succeeded."_

" _But that's a good thing."_

_He smiled, but his tone was ambivalent. "Yeah, it's a good thing, but it signals the end of my time at Hogwarts too. It's NEWTs after this and then the real world. It's the same for Percy."_

" _Are you excited to be graduating?" Katie asked._

" _Of course," he replied automatically. He looked at her from under his lashes. "I'll tell you a secret."_

_Katie smiled broadly and leaned in close to hear his confidence. "Do tell," she said in a mock whisper._

" _I got an offer from Puddlemere United."_

_Katie's eyes went wide and she squealed with excitement. She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down so that he was leaning into her awkwardly. "But, Ollie, that is great news!"_

" _It's just the reserve team," Oliver added modestly, tugging on her arm as if she were strangling him._

_She leaned back a little to look at him. "Don't act as if this isn't a big deal. Because it is a really, really big deal."_

_Oliver smiled, his eyes sliding away from her face shyly. "Okay, you're right. I'm pretty chuffed."_

" _Congratulations, Oliver," she said softly and kissed his cheek._

_Oliver went very still in the circle of her arms. His eyes were half-mast and Katie was sure that he was staring at her lips. Her mouth went dry, her smile fading to a pout. Was he going to kiss her? She was just barely breathing with anticipation. Nervously, she wet her bottom lip with her tongue._

" _Thanks," Oliver growled, jerking away. He leaned as far away from her as he could, his hands clenched on his knees._

_Katie wrapped her arms around herself, refusing to look at Oliver. Of course he didn't want to kiss her. She was like a sister to him. Oh, Merlin, did he know that she was hoping he would? Please let him be as obtuse as he seemed because she would just die of embarrassment if he knew about her crush. Really, how silly was it to have a crush on an older boy who was leaving in a few months. A boy who saw her as nothing more than a chum._

" _We should join the party," Oliver said._

" _Good idea," she agreed, proud that her voice sounded normal. "They are missing the man of the hour."_

" _Bloody hell," he swore, slapping his palm against his forehead._

_Katie snorted with laughter. "What?"_

" _We can NOT go down there together," he said seriously. "Do you know what they will think if we come out of the boys' dorm together?"_

" _Wouldn't want anyone to think we are up here snogging," Katie said, hoping it sounded like a joke._

" _It is not snogging that they will think we were doing."_

" _Oh."_

" _Can you do a Disillusionment charm?"_

" _Not very well," she admitted._

" _I'll put a Disillusionment charm on you then," he said. "Can you end the spell?"_

_When she nodded, Oliver stood up and offered her his hand. Katie placed her hand in his large, callused one trying to memorize its warmth and strength. He tugged her to her feet, but when he should have let her hand go, he squeezed it gently instead._

" _You're," he started, but stopped, then, "It was really…I'm glad we had this moment together, Bell. I'm glad we are friends and not just teammates."_

" _Yeah, me too, Wood."_

oOo

The party was winding down. The twins and Jordan were the first to leave as the twins were expected home for Christmas Eve. Angelina and Alicia followed shortly thereafter, offering to Apparate Leanne home. Soon, it was just Fergus and Oliver and that was when Percy decided to show his face. He seemed pleased by the Christmas decorations. In fact, he seemed more pleased than he cared to let on. Oliver wondered why, in all this time, he had never considered how hard Christmas must be for his friend.

"Hey, mate, you want to come home with us for Christmas?" Oliver called to Percy, who was sitting in the corner with his parchments.

"No," Percy said stiffly, looking embarrassed. "I-I am going home tomorrow. I mean, Scrimgeour asked me to take him 'round the Burrow. He wants to meet Harry Potter."

"That sounds like a bad idea, Perce," Fergus said kindly.

Percy ducked his head. "Yeah, maybe."

But Oliver could see that Percy was determined and would not be deterred. Percy had a way of going about things the wrong way when his heart was involved, but he'd see his way clear eventually. Oliver just hoped Percy's heart wasn't broken too many times before the end.

"What do you boys have planned for New Year's?" Fergus asked idly.

Oliver and Percy exchanged glances. Fergus scoffed at their bewildered looks.

"The two of you wouldn't know a good time if it did a belly dance in front of you," Fergus exclaimed.

"We know how to have a good time," argued Percy. "We just don't over indulge."

"Remember the party after we won the House Cup?" Oliver asked with a grin. "You were dead pissed, mate."

"I was not," Percy denied with dignity.

"You were. Katie and I had to help you up to bed. You told her she had a nice bosom."

Percy's mouth fell open and he began to stutter incoherently.

"Wait!" Fergus interjected. "You had Katie up in your dorm room?"

Oliver blushed, realizing what he had inadvertently confessed. That night had been a real test of his will power. He could remember all too clearly seeing Katie standing next to his bed and the way it felt when their bodies unintentionally brushed. He'd had to rush her out of the room before his baser thoughts got the best of him. Even then, he'd nearly kissed her in the stairwell.

He looked at Katie's still form in the bed. Maybe he should have.

"You should come home with us for Christmas," Fergus insisted. "With Alex home and her new grandson about, Mum would never even notice an extra lad to feed."

"I appreciate it, Fergus," Percy said politely. "But I have plans."

"Suit yourself," Fergus replied with a shrug. He stood and stretched. "I'll see you tomorrow then, little brother."

Oliver nodded and clasped his brother's hand. After Fergus left, Oliver sent Percy on his way as well. Then he sat beside Katie's bed in the red and green light twinkling from the little tree. She looked peaceful, but Oliver wished that she would wake up and take the piss out of him.

"Visiting hours are over, Mr. Wood," announced his least favorite mediwitch from the door.

"Aye, I'll be going then."

Oliver stood, but didn't make to leave right away. He took Katie's hand and kissed her fingers.

"Merry Christmas, Bell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Choosing this spot to begin Katie and Oliver's story makes for a difficult romance, I admit. A good romance has the hero and heroine meet as quickly as possible. So, having Katie in a coma for six months (yes, six! Blame JK Rowling, not me) adds a few challenges. Admittedly, this is as much a family fic as it is a romance. I hope you like the Woods and are enjoying Oliver's family.


	5. Almost

St. Mungo's

Early April

Peg Bell liked the early mornings at St. Mungo's. She had never considered herself a morning person, but now it was her favorite part of the day. It was the only time when she could be alone with her daughter. The rest of the time, there were doctors and nurses about-or Healers and medi-witches, as it were. So strange, that. Well, that was neither here nor there.

If it wasn't the medical personnel, than it was Katie's friends. Not that Peg would begrudge Katie their company. On the contrary, Peg had been rather impressed with the loyalty and steadfastness her daughter's friends had displayed. It had been the one bright spot in all this mess.

Setting the cup of tea on the bedside table, Peg settled in next to Katie's bed. She pulled out her copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ to read aloud to Katie. They had already gone through a good portion of Dickens, and now had moved on to Austen. It felt so normal, so British, in this fantastic world of potions and spells. It kept Peg grounded, but secretly she hoped to lure Katie back the real world.

Not that it would work.

Katie made her own way in the world. It had been that way from the start. Her very conception had seemed so unlikely. Peg had been nearly forty when she fell pregnant, rather unexpectedly. Even when she'd married John the previous year, they had agreed that children would be unlikely at their ages. Then there was their little miracle baby: _Catherine_.

She'd been christened Katie at her first wide, toothless smile. She'd been a happy baby with blond hair and blue eyes and apple cheeks. Katie had went from her first laugh to full belly giggles in seconds, it had seemed. The perfect English rose, she was. And Peg had dreamed of pretty ribbons and pink frocks and dance recitals. Yet, her little rose always returned home with the ribbon long gone from her hair, mud streaked across the front of her frock, and a demand for a football on her lips.

Peg had resigned herself to overalls and trainers, then watched her rose blossom into a tomboy. Then came the rather startling news that Katie was a witch and she would leave home for the greater part of the year for a special school. As unfathomable as witchcraft seemed to Peg, it explained so much about her fearless daughter. A child who was rarely ill. Who could survive a fall from a tree as if she had simply bounced off the ground like a ball. There was that time when Katie was six and she had given Peg a bouquet and that bouquet had lasted for two months. Yes, it was all too easy to believe that Katie was indeed a witch.

So, Peg had resigned herself to sending her only child off to Hogwarts for most of the year. It had seemed like such a huge sacrifice, although John had assured her that they were doing the right thing. He was a Harrow man himself and had not seemed to think that seeing their child only three months out of the year was such a great sacrifice.

Peg had always managed to keep a stiff upper lip about the whole thing, but inside she hated putting Katie on the train every year. Until last summer, that is. For the first time, Katie could perform magic at home and it had been a wondrous thing to behold. Her daughter could levitate a tea cup and make it float through the air. Katie said it was simple, first year magic, but it was amazing.

Amazing or not, Peg rather wished her daughter was a normal girl. Perhaps Katie wouldn't be lingering in a hospital bed near death for six months if she were a normal girl.

She and John had known about the Diggory boy. Katie had been quite upset about the boy's death, but—Peg had come to realize—Katie had not been forthcoming about many other things. Katie had told her parents about a war and some inside political wrangling between the Hogwarts' Headmaster and the head of the government. Yet, when Peg had expressed concerns over the things that the Daily Prophet had written about Dumbledore, Katie had scoffed. She said it was slander, pure and simple, and Wizarding Britain could use a good spot of Muggle slander laws. And John had said that all boarding schools had their share of politics; it would iron itself out.

Yet, it was not the Headmaster Peg should have worried about. It was the war that had come to the doorstep of the very school her daughter should have been safe in. Peg simply had not believed this war would affect her school age daughter, and yet it had.

And now, if Katie woke up, Peg would like nothing more than to wrap her in flannel and bring her home to live an ordinary life. But she already knew that Katie would not back down from the world she choose for herself, no matter the dangers.

Peg took a sip of her tea, opening the book. Something caught her attention. From the corner of her eye, she'd seen movement? With her head still bent over the book, she glanced up at the bed. Had anything changed? Was she imagining things?

" _Uhn…"_

The mug crashed to the floor, exploding into hundreds of pieces, hot tea splattering everywhere. Peg shot out of her chair. Katie. She had made a noise. _That_ had not been imagined. Katie's head rolled to one side. She moaned again.

"Doctor!"

Peg ran to the door, grabbing a hold of the first witch she saw in the signature blue robes of St. Mungo's Healers. She could barely get the words out. Her heart was beating in triple time. All this time and no change. Please, Lord…

"She's waking up!" Peg screamed.

oOo

Katie woke from her six-month coma suddenly and painfully. One moment, it was as if she were swimming inside her own body. She was able to hear voices, sense light and dark, feel pain and comfort, but only from afar. As hard as she tried, she could never break water.

Then, she surfaced all at once. Coughing and sputtering, squinting at the bright lights after months of darkness. In those first few moments of shock, everything had hurt. The hands gently touching her body, the hushed voices speaking over her head. She was overly sensitive to every little thing.

Past the busy Healers and mediwitches, Katie could see her mum. She was crying, a hand covering her mouth. She looked terribly old and tired. Katie reached for her, suddenly feeling very scared.

"Mummy," she rasped tearfully.

The mediwitches parted and Mum squeezed in beside Katie's bed, grasping her hand painfully. "I'm here, love, Mummy's here."

After the Healers were done with their tests and diagnostics, Katie was left with her parents. She stared at them in bewilderment. They looked terribly old, older than she remembered.

"It was bad, Mummy?" she croaked, tears burning her already dusty throat.

"You've been in a coma for six months, Katie," Mum said, tears trembling in her eyes, threatening to fall.

Six months? So much of her life gone? She couldn't even remember how she had gotten there.

"But I don't understand…" Katie started, brow furrowed.

"I don't either, dear," Mum said, stroking Katie's hand. "I-I thought you'd be…damaged somehow—"

"Peg!" Daddy admonished.

"I did the reading, John!" Mum cried. "Patients in a long coma need a great deal of rehabilitation, but look at her! It's as if not a day has passed. I don't understand it."

"We don't need to understand it," Daddy said. "We just need to be thankful."

Daddy came around the other side of the bed, looking down at Katie with a fond smile. He stroked her hair like he used to when she was little, then leaned in to place a kiss on her forehead. Katie smiled to herself. Daddy was not a demonstrative man, but he had small, quiet ways of telling her the important things.

"I'll thank you not to put us through this again, young lady," he said with a slight smile.

With a small cry, Mum sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Katie into a fierce hug. Pain exploded through Katie's nerves. She yelped, much to her embarrassment. Mum immediately pulled away, fussing and apologizing.

"It's nothing, Mum," Katie reassured her.

"Your friends have been wonderful, dear," Daddy said awkwardly. He had never been comfortable with strong emotions. "Alicia, Angelina and the twins rotated in and out routinely. And Oliver was here nearly every night, unless he had a match. You were never alone."

"Oliver?" Katie said in wonder.

"I think he rather fancies you, my dear," Daddy said with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

Those words felt like magic as they settled into Katie's heart. It was like performing her first spell with her vey own wand, light, warm, tingly, natural. But it couldn't be true, could it? Yet, there was a part of her that _knew._

It wasn't long before Angelina and Alicia showed up. Katie smiled at her friends from her hospital bed. She could tell they were trying to remain calm, but their excitement was radiating off them in currents. Daddy faded back so that the girls could crowd next to Katie, but Mum kept her spot firmly.

"Took you long enough," Angelina said with a smirk and they fell into giggles.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bell," Alicia said, "have you left Katie's side?"

"You must be famished," Angelina added.

"You should go take tea. We'll stay with Katie."

"Oh, I don't—" Mum protested.

Katie shot her father a pleading look. She was anxious to speak to Angelina and Alicia. Katie had so many questions and fears, but she didn't want to express them in front of her mother. She didn't want to scare her mother. She saw Daddy understand as he came around the bed to take Mum's hand and place it in the crook of his arm.

"Come along, Peg," Daddy said.

"I am not ready to leave, yet," Mum stated, her eyes narrowing.

"Can't you see they have six months' worth of gossip to catch up on?"

No one laughed at his joke. Daddy glanced at Katie who could only give him an apologetic look in return.

"We'll take good care of her, we promise," Angelina put in.

Once they were gone, Angelina and Alicia settled onto the end of Katie's bed just as if they were back at Hogwarts for a girl's night. Angelina and Alicia were both half-bloods; they had grown up in Wizarding England; they understood it better than Katie did. She was hoping they would have some answers for her.

"What happened?" Katie asked, feeling near tears. "The last thing I remember is being at the Three Broomsticks with Leanne."

"We think you were Imperiused to carry a cursed necklace to Dumbledore," Angelina said matter-of-factly. She took this tone when she was trying to suppress her emotions.

"Leanne tried to stop you," Alicia continued. "There was a struggle and you ended up touching the necklace through a tiny hole in your gloves."

"You—you almost died," Angelina whispered, her control obviously failing her.

Katie swallowed hard, tears rolling down her face. "Is—is Leanne okay?"

"She's been really upset," Alicia said, "but she's fine."

"I owled her to tell her the good news," Angelina added more brightly.

"And the twins will be here after the shop closes," Alicia put in.

Katie wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She wanted to ask about Oliver, but not yet.

"What about Hal?" she asked instead, feeling guilty that her boyfriend was an after-thought.

Angelina and Alicia exchanged identical looks of fury.

"He bounced," Angelina growled.

"He couldn't handle being the boyfriend of a girl in a coma," Alicia said darkly.

"Oh," was all Katie said in response. Then, "I think I should be upset about that."

"Well, don't worry about it a moment," Angelina replied, a devilish smile quirking her lips. "Let's just say he got more than his fair share of Weasley Wizard Wheezes for Christmas this year."

Katie smiled at her friends. She should be hurt that Hal broke things off while she was in a coma. She had fancied herself in love with him, after all. Yet, she couldn't muster the energy for it. She just didn't care.

"Are we tiring you out?" Alicia asked, grabbing Katie's foot through the blankets and give it a shake.

"What?" Katie asked distractedly. "No, I'm just woolgathering."

When the twins came later, they were still in their loud work robes. They flashed her their identical, evil grins. Katie offered a small smile in return. She was glad to see them, as she always was, but disappointed too. They were not the Wizards she was hoping to see.

"We've been told—" Fred started.

"To be on our best behavior," George finished.

"Some rubbish about you being weak and fragile."

"And needing peace and quiet."

"We told them, 'Not our Katie Bell.'"

"'She's a scrapper,' we said."

A rusty giggle bubbled up Katie's chest. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, fellas."

"So," said George, "how are you doing really, Bell?"

Katie made a face, but answered, "On the mend."

"Good to hear," Fred said in an unusually subdued tone.

With a frown, Katie turned away. The twins could be serious, she knew that. But their gentle consideration and soft tones just re-enforced to Katie how close to death she'd been.

"Hey," George said brightly, "we've been trying to find Oliver for you."

"He's had a series of away games and he's been traveling," Fred added.

"Dead hard to track down."

"Or else he would have been here already."

"You'd probably be sick of him by now," George put in with a grin.

"So," Katie said cautiously, trying very hard to look nonchalant, "Oliver's been here a great deal, has he? I mean, that's what I've been told."

"That bloke," Fred started.

"He's head over heels for you," George finished.

That warm feeling filled Katie's chest again at George's words. She couldn't seem to hear it enough: Oliver was mad for her. He fancied her. He…loved her? Could it be true? A sense of wonder came over Katie at the thought.

"Listen, Bell," Fred said, "he'll be here as soon as he knows, I'm sure of it."

"Meanwhile, we're doing everything in our power to find him," George added.

The twins shared sour looks. Then Fred spoke, his voice full of disgust:

"We even contacted our Big Head brother."

"Wow, guys!" Katie said, astonished and truly grateful.

"Well, not personally," George assured her.

"No way!"

"We pestered Bill—"

"Until he agreed to go to the prat."

"Well," Katie said, unable to restrain her grin, "it's the thought that counts."

"That's what we thought!" the twins chorused.

A silvery ball of light flew into the room and formed what looked like a dog before the twins. Katie leaned forward in her bed to get a better look, but her sight was still hampered from there.

The dog opened its mouth and out came a familiar voice: "Get yourself to Headquarters now!"

"Hey!" Katie said, her brow furrowing. "Isn't that Professor Moody?"

"Well, got to be on our way," Fred said hurriedly.

"Glad your recovered, Bell," George added.

"See you tomorrow!" they chorused as they rushed out the door.

oOo

Somewhere North of London

Same day

Oliver understood the importance of team cohesiveness, he did. He'd been Gryffindor Captain for three years, part of what made them great was that they were a close-knit lot. Yet, at the end of a long road trip, Oliver couldn't give a damn about the team or its cohesiveness. Five matches, five cities, five inns, countless hours on a bleeding train with the same ten people and their trainer. He just wanted to go home, and he wanted to see how Katie was doing.

With a tired sigh, Oliver stretched his long legs out in front of him and attempted to make himself comfortable. Another hour and the Wizarding Express would be pulling into Platform 11 ¾ in London. From there, he could Apparate home to his flat to freshen up a bit and eat something before going on to St. Mungo's. He knew that the train rides with the rest of the team were important, but he wished that he could have just Apparated from Appleby and been done with it.

An erratic tapping at the window pulled Oliver out of his sour musings. He looked up to see an owl come to the train window, tap twice, then be forced away from the train by the rushing wind. It made another attempt and that was when Oliver realized that it was Percy's owl, Hermes. He shot forward to open the window for the owl.

What could be so important that Percy would send Oliver an owl during his journey home? A million thoughts tried to race through his mind, but Oliver ruthlessly pushed them back. He wasn't going to assume the worst.

Hermes approached the train again, but was buffeted back. Oliver watched anxiously as the owl flew back towards the train window, wings flapping against the rushing wind, a determined look in its yellow eyes that reminded Oliver rather alarmingly of Percy. Spreading it wings at the last minute, Hermes glided through the opened window to alight on the back of the bench.

"Hard journey, mate?" Oliver said to the stoic looking owl. He looked around for something to give the poor owl, but there was nothing. He grabbed his Puddlemere cap, transfigured it into a bowl and used a simple Aguamenti spell to fill it for the battered bird.

Once Hermes had drank its fill, Oliver detached the parchment from its leg and it flew out the window. Oliver unrolled the scroll, still refusing to consider what it may say. But the news was anything but bad.

_Oliver,_

_Katie is awake. Come to St. Mungo's straight away._

_Percy_

Oliver let out a loud 'whoop,' causing several teammates in neighboring compartments to stick their heads out the door to check what was the matter. Oliver was oblivious. He was grinning broadly at the parchment. His heart was racing and his face was flushed. This was the best news he could imagine.

Just one hour to go.

Evening was already settling into London when Oliver pushed his way off the train. He'd made arrangements for his bags to be sent to his home. He wasn't going to miss a moment, not if he could help it. He just wanted to get to Katie.

"Oliver!"

He stopped in his headlong dash away from the train at the sound of his name being called out.

"Oliver! Wait!"

He looked around and saw Fergus jogging up to him. Oliver did not want to stop and speak to his brother, but he made himself. Fergus wouldn't have come to the train station unless it was important.

"Hey, mate!" Fergus said as he made Oliver's side. Fergus gave him a broad smile. "We have been trying to track you down all day. Katie woke up."

Oliver returned his brother's smile. "I know. Percy sent me an owl."

"On the Wizarding Express?" Fergus asked with a chuckle. He looked around at the green steam engine that loomed behind them. "Can't say he doesn't know how to get things done."

"Well," Oliver said, glancing at the entrance. "I'll see you around, then."

"You aren't going to chicken out now, are you?" Fergus called out, crossing his arms over his chest.

Oliver scowled at his older brother. "What are you on about?"

"After all this, you'd better not leave the hospital until you've kissed that girl," Fergus said with a smirk.

Oliver flushed, but went on the offensive. "Am I a Gryffindor or not?"

"I always thought you might be more of a cub than a king."

Oliver's hands clenched. He didn't have time for Fergus to take the piss. Long habit caused Oliver to want to deck his brother right there on the platform, onlookers be damned. So it surprised Oliver how easy it was to unclench his fists and turn away. Let Fergus be an arsehole. Oliver had places to be.

Then a silvery light fell between them. It took the form of a large, mangy Rottweiler that was missing an eye and part of its nose. Fergus sobered up immediately and Oliver froze in his attempted escape.

"Get yourself to Headquarters now!"

The voice was as dry and rough as grit. The message short and terse. Yet, the authority of it could not be denied. Oliver looked at his brother, feeling a bit more kindly to him.

Fergus slapped Oliver on the back and gave him a smile. "Listen, mate, don't waste a moment, yeah?"

"I've learned my lesson there, Ferg."

Fergus smiled, and began to walk away. "Good to hear!" he yelled over his shoulder. "I'll be around tomorrow to take the piss, so you'd better get all that lovey dovey stuff out of the way."

Oliver smiled and made a rude gesture which made his brother laugh. Fergus was always Fergus. The insufferable arsehole.

oOo

Sometime later, Katie woke up to a dimly lit room. She must have drifted off after the twins left.

Katie stretched and rolled onto her side, only to find a burly, dark-haired wizard sitting at her bedside.

"Oliver?"

It should have been alarming, the way her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught (she had just awakened from a coma, after all), but it wasn't. It was exhilarating. It made her feel properly alive and almost normal. 'Almost' because she was sure this rush of emotion was anything but normal. In fact, she was sure it was quite exceptional indeed.

A smile lit up Oliver's face at the sound of Katie's voice. He reached out and tangled his fingers with hers. It was a chaste touch and could be interpreted as merely friendly, but it sent sparks shooting along her nerve endings.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," she replied.

Katie pulled her hand loose and reached out to touch the fine lines that appeared next to his eyes when he smiled. He was going to be a handsome older man, she mused. Her smile grew broader at the ridiculousness of her thoughts.

"I hear that you've visited nearly every day," Katie said, feeling inexplicably shy.

"Aye." Oliver cleared his throat, for a moment his eyes were full of emotion before he looked away. "I was afraid…that I'd missed my chance."

Katie started fingering his hair; it was as soft as she had imagined it would be. "Your chance at what?"

"To be with you."

Oliver looked up then, stark honesty shining in his eyes. Katie was rendered speechless. She hadn't expected him to be so forthright or so vulnerable, but now that seemed ridiculous. Oliver was nothing if not straightforward. And this was not the first time he had allowed himself to be vulnerable before her.

"Oh, Oliver," she whispered.

"I know that I shouldn't tell you this now," he interrupted. He was wound up like before a Quidditch match. "I mean you just woke up, you're probably weak and don't have your bearings yet."

"Oliver, it's—"

"But I've wasted too much time not telling you that I—I fancy you. I didn't want to miss another moment, not if there was a chance that you felt the same way."

He looked at her beseechingly, then grimaced. "I don't want to pressure you. It's too soon."

"Oliver!" Katie exclaimed, feeling somewhere between exasperated and exhilarated. Then laughed at herself. Somehow, she figured, this was an emotion she would experience quite often with Oliver. "I fancy you, too. I always have."

"Yeah?" he asked softly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah," she replied, with her own private smile.

The words settled between them like beautiful charm work performed just so. Katie continued to trace her finger over Oliver's face as he took her other hand in his. The anxiousness had left Oliver and he was watching her with a kind of quiet bemusement. As if he couldn't quite believe that she felt the same way he did. Katie supposed she was feeling the same.

"How long have you fancied me?" Katie asked.

Oliver looked away shyly, his cheeks tinged pink. "Since your fifteenth birthday party."

Abruptly, Katie sat up, making herself a little dizzy. "All this time?"

Oliver nodded.

"But why didn't you say anything? We could have been together all this time."

Oliver shook his head. "You were too young for me back then."

Katie opened her mouth to rail at this logic, but then closed it. She tilted her head to one side, regarding Oliver evenly. True, she'd had a terrible crush on him then and being his girlfriend would have been like a dream come true. But, then, she remembered her disgust with Cormac McClaggen at the start of seventh year when he was nosing around the fourth year girls.

By contrast, Oliver had had the sense to let her grow up first. He'd respected her enough to not press his suit because she had been too young at the time. Katie covered her face with her hands, a broad smile in place.

"Oliver!" she said, looking at him. He blinked as the radiance of her smile hit him. "You…you sweet, chivalrous, noble, frustrating, backwards man!"

He shifted in his chair. "Is that a good thing?"

"Depends?"

"On what?"

"Am I still too young?"

Oliver shook his head seriously. "No, I would say you are just right."

"Then," she said as saucily as she could from a hospital bed, "why are you sitting over there and not over here?" She pointed at the spot next to her on the mattress, eyebrows raised.

Oliver didn't hesitate to take Katie up on her invitation, sliding onto the bed so that he was facing her with a boyish grin on his face. She had to look way up to see into his eyes, which were smiling down at her. Oliver was a big man. And he was so near.

His fingers brushed gently along her cheek, into her hair. He leaned in and his lips brushed against her skin. Katie's eyes slid shut, her breathing shallow, her arms went around his shoulders. Oliver had very broad, well-muscled shoulders.

Then his lips were on hers. Sweetly, lightly, briefly. He pulled away just a little and Katie looked up at him. He was smiling shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"That was a proper first kiss," he whispered, his smile growing boyish again. "I wanted to do this proper."

Katie slid her arms around his neck, her fingers going into his hair. "What about second kisses?"

"Much less proper I should think."

"Good. Now let's get that second kiss under way."

Oliver smiled broadly, but before he could move, Katie's lips captured his. His strong arms came around her. Her loose breasts tingled and her nipples tightened as they pressed into the hard plain of his chest. Katie moaned against his mouth. Emboldened, Oliver slid his tongue along her bottom lip and Katie's lips parted to allow entrance.

"Well," said a strident voice. "This is a reunion I am sorry to break up."

Oliver cursed, making Katie giggle. They remained in the circle of their embrace for a moment, chests heaving. Finally, Oliver pressed a kiss into the corner of Katie's mouth before looking over his shoulder at the intruder.

"Medi-witch Killjoy," he said with exasperation.

"Mr. Wood," she replied with asperity.

Katie tucked her head against Oliver's chest, one hand skimming up his side.

"Visiting hours are officially over," the medi-witch said. "You know the rules."

Oliver's hand was roaming over Katie's back lightly, giving her goose flesh. "Surely we can overlook that just for tonight."

"I really must insist. I can't have you overtaxing the patient."

"I'm not overtaxed," Katie piped up, then added cheekily, " _yet_."

"Well, precisely," the medi-witch said dryly. "Now, will you be going, Mr. Wood, or shall I call security?"

Oliver looked down at Katie and she was reminded of how irritated he looked when the team would goof off during practice. She giggled at her own thought and he smiled indulgently. This was the best she had felt since she woke up. Alive and joyous. She reached up and kissed him again, fast and hard.

"Now, Mr. Wood," the medi-witch said. "You may return tomorrow and, ahem, _overtax_ the patient on somebody else's shift."

"I'll be back tomorrow," Oliver murmured. "Early. First thing."

"No training?" Katie asked.

"I can skip training this once."

"Oliver Wood!" Katie gasped with a giggle. "You do not skip training."

"For you, just for you."

"Mr. Wood," came the exasperated voice of the medi-witch.

Oliver pressed one last kiss into Katie's lips. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," she echoed happily.

Oliver stood, but still held Katie's hand. The medi-witch, who Katie could now see from her badge was actually named Linda Brown, was eyeing Oliver with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. Reluctantly, he backed out of the room, grinning broadly. Katie knew her smile must echo his as he finally disappeared. The medi-witch was talking about potions and rest, but all Katie could think of was that Oliver would return tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: As I was writing these next chapters, I went back and found the section where Katie returns to Hogwarts in HBP to see if it happened the way I remembered. I mean, I remember her waking up and then playing a fantastic game of Quidditch after a six month coma, but surely that was just my memory playing tricks on me, right? JKR didn't really have Katie in a coma for six months, then returned her to school happy and healthy, right? Nope, I was right the first time. In HBP on page 517, Katie says, "After that (walking into the ladies' room at the Three Broomsticks), my memory's a blank until about two weeks ago in St. Mungos." I took that to mean that she was in a coma from October until two weeks prior to this scene. On the next page, Harry ruminates that the next fortnight was the best practices the team had. So, about a month after waking up, Katie plays Quidditch for the Quidditch Cup, but I'll cover that later on. ;)


	6. Stop the Clocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains scenes of a more mature nature due to violence and heavy themes.
> 
> Disclaimer: The world and characters (most of them) belong to JK Rowling. The story title belongs to the Cure. (Go check out the song if you haven't heard it already.) The chapter title comes from a line in W.H. Auden's poem, Funeral Blues.

Bill Weasley stood outside his younger brother's flat banging on the door just passed two in the morning. He'd set a Muffalito charm around himself so he wouldn't wake the neighbors. He was tempted to just break through all of Percy's wards and march right in. He could if he wanted to, but it didn't feel right. Even now, when the news was so dire.

_C'mon, Perce, open up._

It had taken Bill a long time to pull himself together before Apparating to Percy's neighborhood. Bill had been a wreck after the battle. He'd spent more time crying into his mother's shoulder than he cared to admit. When he was given his next orders, Bill had had to take the time to change out of blood soaked clothes and gather his wits. He'd drawn on all of his years as a big brother to know what he should do next.

As long as he could remember, his parents had looked to him to watch after his younger siblings. Sometimes he felt more like a third parent rather than a sibling, only he was cooler and younger, more easy-going. His siblings knew they could come to him in a crisis because he was a good listener and had a sensible head on his shoulders. He was going to need all of that now.

Bill banged on the door again.

In the end, he really only needed to ask himself one question: If the roles had been reversed, how would Dougal go about it? With strength and heart, like he had done everything in life. Bill just hoped he was as strong as his friend.

Finally, the door swung open. Percy's glasses were askew and his hair was sticking straight up. At the sight of Bill standing on his threshold, Percy's eyes went round. He appeared to stop breathing.

"Bill," he said, clutching the door frame, his knuckles going white. "W-what's wrong? Is it Mum? Dad?"

"No, Percy, it's not the family," Bill assured him. "I need your help. It's Oliver."

oOo

Bill stood behind Percy outside Oliver's flat. Percy was pounding on the door, muttering to himself and trembling like a leaf. Percy had taken the news hard. He'd broken down and cried. Bill had tried to comfort his little brother, though it would sorely test his resolve, but Percy resisted. He was so bloody minded about doing everything himself. Sometimes Bill wondered if Percy thought he was undeserving of love.

The door swung open fairly quickly. Oliver stood on the other side, still pulling on a shirt. He looked at Percy quizzically, but his eyes quickly moved to Bill. Almost instantly, Bill could see the truth dawn on Oliver. He understood why an Order member would come to his door at barely three in the morning. For a moment, there was a look like a wounded child's in Oliver's eyes, but he hid it quickly. Bill could see the effort the younger Wizard was making to be strong and all he could think was how proud Dougal would be of his younger brother.

"Which one?" Oliver asked, still looking Bill in the eye.

"It was both of them, Ollie," Percy said quietly.

Oliver's eyes switched to Percy in horror. "Both of my brothers are…"

"Dead," Percy whispered, nodding his head.

Oliver reeled back, tears spilling out of his eyes. Percy followed his friend into the flat, taking the broader Wizard by the shoulders and pulling Oliver into his lanky arms. Oliver's head fell onto Percy's shoulder as he leaned heavily into the slighter man. Oliver was sobbing, his whole body shaking with his grief. Bill was surprised at his brother's strength. Closing the door behind him, Bill focused on a spot in the middle of Percy's back to keep himself from breaking down right along with Oliver.

The Wood brothers had a strong bond. It was that, as much as anything, that had made the six of them such good friends. Dougal understood that no matter what good mates he and Bill were, Bill's best mate would always be Charlie and the same was true for Dougal and Fergus. They had Quidditch, family and hard work in common.

When Oliver finally came up to Hogwarts, Dougal and Fergus both looked out for him in their own ways. And it had been obvious that Oliver had looked up to his brothers. Even as adults, the three Wood boys had kept close ties. Something, Bill realized, that he and Charlie had failed to do with Percy. Bill couldn't imagine how alone Oliver must be feeling at this moment. It must feel like the entire foundation of his life had been ripped out from under him.

Finally, Oliver pushed out of Percy's arms. He turned his back to the Weasley brothers and swiped his arm across his face. Percy pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to his friend wordlessly. Oliver stared at it a moment, before taking it with a snort.

"Thanks, Perce," he grunted. "Is it starched, too?"

"Like my pants," Percy replied dryly. Both of them laughed shortly, in that way that suggested an old inside joke.

Finally, Oliver turned to Bill. There was a resolve in Oliver's eyes that reminded Bill of Dougal. The younger man was trying very hard to keep his emotions in check, to stay strong.

"How did it happen?" Oliver asked, his voice broke on the last word. "Were-were you there?"

"Yes," Bill replied feeling as though he was confessing to a terrible wrong.

"Maybe we should sit down?" Percy suggested. He steered Oliver to the sofa with a hand on his shoulder, but Percy remained standing behind his friend, arms braced on the sofa back.

Bill pushed aside some Quidditch pads and sat on the coffee table before Oliver. When he was sure he could speak without any betraying breaks, he began in a low voice, "We, ah, were on a mission, along with Remus Lupin. We were patrolling Little Helga Near Hartford, do you know what that is?"

"It's a village like Godric's Hollow," Oliver answered automatically, as if he were answering a question in Transfiguration class. "Wizards and Muggles living together, right?"

oOo

_Little Helga Near Hartford was quiet, but reliable sources had it that there would be a Death Eater attack on one of the Four Founders' home villages (or city, in the case of Salisbury). Every member of the Order had been called in for the mission, including McGonagall and Aberforth, which was nearly unheard of._

_Remus Lupin's squad had arrived to their destination at 9 o'clock sharp and went about their duties. Fergus and Dougal set protective wards at the parameters of the hamlet. Bill set the more complicated anti-apparition enchantments. It was a risky, but standard, procedure. It kept the enemy out, but it kept the good guys trapped in, too. Meanwhile, Lupin went to alert the local Wizards._

_After that, it felt like any other patrol. Dull. Mundane, even._

_Bill and Lupin had been on the north side of the village when Dougal's Patronus appeared requesting back up on the west side of the village. It was a moment's work for Bill to extract his broom and enlarge it. He was airborne without checking if Lupin was following. He would be. Bill could count on Lupin._

_From twenty feet above the rooftops, Bill could see the battle raging on the outskirts of High Street. Fergus' tall, lean figure battling three masked bastards. Dougal's broader form crouched low as he blasted spells at two more. As Bill closed in, he Stunned one of Fergus' opponents. But Dougal was felled by a spell that Bill had never seen before. Dougal fell back with a scream, blood pouring from a slash across his chest._

_Fergus roared. He blasted his last two Death Eaters off their feet like scarecrows before a tornado. He pivoted between his brother and the last standing combatants, firing spells with a fury. Fergus killed one while the other closed in on Dougal._

_Bill saw Fergus step in front of a Killing Spell meant for his brother just as the ginger had to duel another Death Eater on broomstick. Bill dispatched him quickly, knowing the man fell to his death. Bill was single-minded in his determination to get to Dougal, only to be set upon by spells from the ground._

_Bill landed roughly, silently casting a shield spell around himself._

_Dougal was shakily on his feet just yards away, trying to duel the Death Eater that had killed Fergus. The next thing Bill knew, Lupin was at his side, taking on three Death Eaters with him._

" _Pay attention, Bill!" Lupin commanded. "You can't help Wood if you're dead!"_

_Bill put his mind to defeating the enemy before him. Relief washed over him moments later when he saw Tonks and Hestia Jones fly in. But it was already too late. Dougal lay dead next to Fergus._

oOo

When Bill finished his story he was not sure how he had managed to make it through it without breaking down. He had knelt over Dougal's body and wept when it was all said and done. Reinforcements had come in the form of Mad-Eye Moody and Dad's squadron. There had been fifteen Death Eaters in all. None of the other locations had been attacked.

Eventually, Dad had pulled Bill away. "Come along, son," he'd said quietly. "We need to take Dougal back to Headquarters. Your mum is there, she'll prepare him for his family."

That was when Bill had realized that he'd been kneeling in a pool of blood. His friend was covered in it. Bill looked at his hands, red with Dougal's blood. He had recruited his friends to the Order.

"We'll side-along him," Dad said. "Do you think you are fit for Apparition?"

"I think you better do it," Bill replied. "What about Fergus?"

"McGonagall and Mad-Eye are taking him."

"Dad," Bill said, catching his father's arm.

Dad gave him an odd look, but covered Bill's hand with his own. "What is it?" he asked in just the same voice he'd used when Bill was a boy and he'd had a nightmare.

"Fergus sacrificed himself for Dougal," Bill said, he needed somebody to know this. He needed somebody to understand his friend's incredible bravery and selflessness. "And Dougal, he fought to the death. They would have killed him either way, he went out on his own terms."

Dad embraced him. "I think he took two of the bastards with him."

Now, Bill knelt before Oliver who sat with his head in his hands. Oliver hadn't made a sound throughout the whole story; he hadn't even looked at Bill. He wondered how much Oliver had really taken in.

At length, Oliver asked roughly, "Have you sent somebody to Catriona?"

"Tonks," Bill answered automatically. "She was a Hufflepuff in Fergus' year and—"

"I remember her," Oliver said. He stood abruptly, nearly knocking Bill over. "I need to go to Catriona."

oOo

It was sometime long after dawn that Oliver found a moment of quiet. He was sitting in the window of his room in Red's Wood staring out at the familiar garden, still chilled from the long Scottish winter. Catriona had cried herself to sleep after nursing the baby two hours ago. Mum was under the effects of a Dreamless Sleep Draught. Oliver had no idea about Dad, other than he was with Mum in their room. Percy was down the hall in a guest suite. It had been rather difficult to shake him. Alex was asleep in Oliver's bed, looking very small and young.

In those quiet moments, it felt as though Oliver was the only man awake in the whole mad, mixed-up world. His older brothers were dead. Just when Katie returned to him, Voldermort took his brothers in the same night. There was a clawing, gaping hole in his chest where everything that was right about the world used to be.

Oliver didn't know how to function in a world where he couldn't turn to Dougal for his good sense and steadfastness. Where Fergus wasn't ready to take the piss and make Oliver laugh. Where he would never play Quidditch in the back garden with the two men who made him into the Keeper he was.

He, Oliver, was the older brother now. And the man who would help Catriona raise Campbell. He didn't know how to be either.

Tears came to his eyes again. There seemed to be an unending supply of them. Wiping his arm across his face, Oliver stood and walked to his desk. He pulled out parchment and quill and began to write.


	7. Letters With Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So sorry! I just realized I forgot to post yesterday. To make up for it, I'll post two chapters today.

_Dear Katie,_

_I'm not going to be able to keep my promise to you. You might have heard by now that my older brothers have been killed by Death Eaters. I'm home now with what remains of my family. It's bloody rough…_

Cal Wood met his third son at the Floo with a tight hug. Oliver bent his head, pressing his face into the crook of his father's neck, taking comfort from the familiar sent of pipe smoke and broom oil. He was taller and stronger than his father now, but he was taken back to a time when the strength of Dad's arms around him were enough to right all wrongs. It was nearly enough to break the young man's resolve.

There was a _whoosh_ behind them and Catriona stepped out of the Floo, clutching Campbell to her chest. The two men broke apart. Oliver wiped his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Cal clapped him on the back. "That's right, son," he murmured. "I need you to be a man now."

The words nearly passed over Oliver-he'd heard them so many times before. Then, with a shock, he realized that Dad was speaking to him, Oliver. How many times had he heard Dad say the exact same thing to Dougal? When Oliver was five and found the kneazle limping out from under the porch after being mauled by the dog. When Fergus first went off to Hogwarts. When Alex was born.

Cal never said it to Fergus or Oliver. Only Dougal because he was the oldest.

Solemnly, Dad took Catriona into his arms. He didn't offer to take the baby as he normally did. Campbell was whimpering, a deep frown on his red, tear streaked face. Oliver had to remind himself that the baby was upset about the twisting, sucking sensation of Floo travel and not crying for his dead father.

Percy was the last one through, but he melted into the background seamlessly.

"I'm glad you're here," Dad said gruffly to Oliver, looking over Catriona's head. "I have to go to Hogwarts for Alex and your mum…"

"What about Mum?" Oliver asked.

"Oliver!" Roberta Wood shrieked from the foot of the stairs. She rushed to her son and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down into her embrace. But there was no comfort to be found in her arms. She sobbed hysterically into Oliver's chest while he patted her back awkwardly.

_Mum's in a real bad way, Katie. She scared Alex, I could see it and so could Dad._

As bad as it was to have Mum hanging off his neck, it was nothing like when Alex was brought home. He'd come through the Floo still in his black and gold dressing gown, his face pale and his hair tousled. Catriona had taken the baby into the sitting room earlier, unable to watch Roberta alternately cry and pet Oliver's face and hair. But Oliver and his mum were waiting in the kitchen, Percy lingering in the background, when Alex arrived.

Upon seeing the only child still shorter than her, and then only by an inch or two, Roberta swooped down on Alex with a vengeance. Alex stood woodenly in her arms, his eyes shocked and beseeching as he stared at Oliver. The older brother didn't know what to do. He'd never seen his mum like this. She was fueled by a desperate energy and her eyes had a wild look about them. Oliver had shrunk away from her, but she wouldn't let him out of her sight. It was as if she was afraid he would disappear if she let him get too far from her side. Or maybe it was _exactly_ that.

Thankfully, Dad was the next through the Floo. His lips folded into flat line as he took his wife by the shoulders. "Come along, Bertie, let the lad breathe."

Mum clung a little harder to Alex's slim frame, but he pushed back this time. Not enough to get her to dislodge, but enough that he could look anxiously again to Oliver. Oliver did the only thing he could think of and took Mum into his own arms. Alex slipped behind Oliver.

"Mr. Wood," Percy said quietly.

Dad looked at the ginger wizard as if he'd forgotten Percy was there.

"I found your supply of Dreamless Sleep potion," Percy said significantly.

With a nod, Dad took Mum by the shoulders again. "Bertie, come to bed, love."

"No," she spat, shaking her head. "I can't. I have to stay with my babies."

"They're not babies anymore."

"They are _my_ babies," she raged. "All I have left. I won't lose them."

"Mum," Oliver said, pulling her arms away from him and holding her hands between his own, "we'll be here in the morning, I promise."

"What about Dougal and Fergus?" she wailed.

Oliver and his father exchanged bewildered looks. Oliver's heart clenched, just as it had when Bill and Percy first told him the news. Had Bill told Oliver where the bodies were? He couldn't remember. Why hadn't he asked?

Finally, it was Percy who answered.

"They are the Order Headquarters, Mrs. Wood. Order of the Phoenix," he said slowly, patiently. He came to stand by Oliver, his face blandly kind as he looked at Roberta. "My mum is there with them. She is taking care of them."

"See, Bertie love, nothing to worry about," Dad said. There were tears in his eyes. "Molly will take good care of our lads."

She took a ragged breath, her hands relaxing in Oliver's grip. "But I need to be here when they are brought home."

"I'll make sure," Percy said. "I'll send an owl to Bill, I'll tell him that the…they shouldn't be brought home until I give them the go ahead."

Oliver looked at his best mate as if seeing him anew. Many times Percy's efficiency had saved his arse at Hogwarts. Papers left to the last moment, potions ingredients ordered perfectly, the best closets for snogging without being caught. Percy's meticulous brain was a gift. Never had Oliver been so grateful for it as he was right now.

"Come rest, Bertie," Dad whispered. "You need to be strong when they bring our lads home."

Finally, Mum turned abruptly from Oliver's arms into her husband's. "How, Cal?" she rasped brokenly. "How am I supposed to sleep when…when my babies are dead?"

"We have a potion for that," Dad replied pragmatically.

She nodded. "Okay, alright."

Mum walked unsteadily to the stairs. She clutched the banister and disappeared up the dark stairwell. Dad stood, staring after her for a moment.

Oliver cleared his throat, then, "You should go, too, Dad."

Cal Wood had gone prematurely gray years ago. His hair and neatly clipped beard were silver now in his fifties, his face pleasantly lined from years of good humor and working in the sun. He was a big man, broad shouldered and tall like his laddies. In that moment, his back turned to his living sons, Cal looked small and old.

When he turned, there were tears on his cheeks. Oliver felt as if he'd been struck in the chest by a speeding Quaffle. Then a ragged sob escaped from Dad, his shoulders shaking. He pressed a hand to his mouth, as if to stifle any noise that might try to escape again. But in the end, the grief won out and Cal Wood stood in his kitchen and wept before his sons for the first time.

Oliver clutched the back of a nearby chair for support. His whole body was vibrating with the immense effort it took not to cry. Still, he could feel moisture itching on his cheeks. He didn't know what to do. Somehow Mum's hysterics were easier than this. She was not a woman given to strong displays of emotions-she was pragmatic and tough-but she was a woman still.

Dad had always been stoic and steady in the face of crisis.

Trying to emulate his father's normal steadiness, Oliver shuffled over to Dad and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Go to bed, Dad," he said, trying to be reassuring. "Go on, I'll take care of everything."

Dad embraced him then, thumping him on the back. Oliver could see Alex hovering around them. The boy looked strained, agitated. Finally, he turned and headed for the sitting room. Oliver hadn't thought about how Alex would feel. When he was twelve, Oliver had had Dougal and Fergus to look to when life spun out of his control. Who did Alex have now that their older brothers were gone?

"Go look after your little brother," Dad said, his voice gruff. He pulled away and wiped the tears from his face. He gave Oliver a ghost of a smile before clapping him on the back.

_He broke down and cried, Katie. I've never seen my dad cry before. I didn't know what to do and I could see that Alex was shaken. So I just hugged Dad and told him I would take care of it all. But maybe that was the wrong thing to do because I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Alex spent most of the night sitting on the sofa in a daze. He looked so lost, but I don't know what he needs. Dougal would know. He always knew just how to handle everything when we were growing up. Or Fergus would find a way to make Alex laugh. But me? The only thing I can think of is to offer to take him for a fly. Our brothers are dead and my mind is still on a damned broomstick!_

_I'm sorry to burden you with all this. I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise to you. I've been holding the memory of our kiss close to my heart through this night. I was so happy to hear your giggle again. I've been using that to keep my strength up, otherwise I might crumble too and then where would we be?_

_I don't know when I'll see you again, but know that I am thinking of you._

_Yours,_

_Oliver_

oOo

_Dear Oliver,_

_My heart is breaking for you…_

It wasn't exactly surprising to see Percy Weasley walk into her hospital room. But the letter he handed to Katie certainly was. It was carefully folded and sealed with Puddlemere blue wax. Her name was written in bold, neat letters: _Katie Bell._ She traced her finger across the letters of her name, written out in Oliver's own hand.

"Playing owl?" she asked with a laugh, trying to downplay how much the square of parchment in her hand meant to her.

"Something like that," Percy responded with a weak smile. "I'll come back by before returning to Red's Wood if you want to write a response."

"Yes, please. I would appreciate that."

Percy left and Katie took a moment to trace the letters of her name again before opening the letter. Having no siblings of her own, Katie couldn't imagine what it must be like for Oliver to lose both of his big brothers. She could remember how close Oliver and Fergus had been. She could remember the tightness of the Weasleys. She could remember little Collin Creevey's excitement when his little brother joined the Gryffindor table. Katie wasn't sure how Oliver even managed to get out of bed that morning with that kind of grief to shoulder, and yet he had taken the time to write _her_ a letter.

_I wish I could be there for you._

It frightened her a little bit, the depth of Oliver's feelings for her. Some instinct told her that it was more than a mere fancy. She pressed her fingers to her lips. She could feel it in their kiss last night. She scanned through his letter again and she could read it in his words. What Oliver felt for her was deeper and truer than what Hal had felt.

And even more frightening, Katie thought maybe she felt the same way for Oliver. She had thought herself in love with Hal. Maybe she had been, in a way, but it was a poor imitation of what she felt for Oliver. How could she love Oliver with only one kiss and a letter between them? But, of course, it was more. It was years of friendship and wishing and hoping. On both of their parts, apparently.

Katie recalled the first time that Hal asked her to go with him to Hogsmeade. She had been so giddy. They'd been classmates for years, but he had returned to school that year taller and more handsome, more outgoing. As if he'd come into his own. They had laughed together and kissed and she'd come back and told Angelina and Alicia all about it.

" _What about Oliver?" Angelina asked._

" _What about Oliver?" Katie replied. "That was just a crush and one that nothing could ever come of! He has left school and he is so old."_

" _So, what?" Alicia asked. "Is Hal just a distraction until Oliver isn't so old?"_

At the time, Katie had been a little hurt by Angelina and Alicia's questions. She had fancied Hal and he had returned her feelings. She liked the way it felt as if there were butterflies in her stomach whenever Hal stole kisses. By the time summer came around, she had convinced herself it was love. Now she wondered if it had all been an excuse to allow herself to shag Hal. Because she had told herself that would never have sex unless she was in love.

Maybe she hadn't been in love with Hal, but Katie had certainly been in lust with him. They had been messing around for months, but never going all the way. Both of them had been frustrated, but Hal was a gentleman about it. Albeit, a whinging one. It hadn't been so hard that summer to say 'I love you' and just finally give in.

Already, nothing with Oliver felt the same. The butterflies were there when they kissed, but so was this odd pain in her heart that felt strangely good. And when she thought about saying 'I love you,' it wasn't easy. It was scary and thrilling, like a leap into the dark. What if he didn't say it back? What if he did?

"What do you have there, my darling girl?"

Katie looked up to see her mum come into the room. "A letter from Oliver."

Peg Bell smiled fondly. "I am surprised I haven't seen him yet."

Unwittingly, Katie clutched the parchment to her chest. "He was here last night, actually," she said, but hesitated before adding, "His brothers were killed last night. That's why he's not here."

Mum plopped down onto the bed heavily, her lined face stricken. "My goodness. How?"

"They were…" Katie tried to think how to explain the Order of the Phoenix to her mother in a way that she would understand. Finally, she settled for saying, "They were soldiers."

"In this war you've told me about," Mum said heatedly. "The one you have already been caught in the crossfire of."

"Yes."

"I don't like it, Catherine," Mum exclaimed, clutching the blanket on the bed. "I don't want you going back to that school. I don't want you in this world."

"Mum," Katie reasoned. Katie was not surprised that her mum felt this way. She had always been uneasy about Katie going off to Hogwarts, especially after Cedric Diggory. Katie was surprised, however, that her mum would actually voice her fears aloud. "This is my world. I'm a witch and I am not going to forfeit my place in it for You Know Who or for your comfort."

"You are my only child, Katie," Mum cried. "I have come close to losing you and it was agony."

"I know, Mummy," Katie said, scooting close to her mum and wrapping her arms around Mum's shoulders. "I'm sorry to put you through it, but it is not as if the Muggle world is any safer. Look what is happening in Bosnia. The U.N. is there now and that means British soldiers."

"Life has no guarantees," Mum conceded miserably, wiping at her eyes.

Katie rested her head on her mum's shoulder. She didn't want to admit that it scared her to go back to Hogwarts. Not Hogwarts exactly, but the Wizarding world. She'd lost six months of her life and she didn't know why or who was responsible. And she wondered how she was supposed to make a life for herself in a world where her kind was hated by so many. It was a hard road to travel, but it was her road. She was a witch, after all-she didn't belong in the Muggle World.

"Mummy," Katie said, wanting to change the subject, but also thinking of the other issue weighing on her heart. "How did you know Daddy was the one?"

Peg rubbed Katie's arm. "You've heard this story a million times, Katie love."

"Make it a million and one."

"I wonder what has you asking for this story, hm?" Mum asked knowingly, her eyes alight with mystery and laughter. "I was married to another man once," she began. "I thought he was the one for me, but I was wrong."

"Do you regret your first marriage?"

"No," Mum said without hesitation. "If I hadn't been married to Trenton then perhaps I wouldn't have known just how special what your father and I have truly is."

"Okay, so what happened after you divorced?"

"I went to University. I started a career. I worked hard and I enjoyed it, but I was lonely. Then, I met this distinguished gentleman who had a distinguished career, but who was also very lonely. And I asked him to tea, because he was shy and would have never asked me himself."

"You are a very modern woman, Mummy," Katie said with a giggle.

"Well, you are in the House of the Brave, are you not?" Mum retorted. "Where do you think you got it from? You're bookish father? I think not. Although, I cannot account for your silliness, wiggly giggly."

Katie fell back on the bed in a fit of giggles. Peg looked upon her with faux severity, but there was such fondness in her eyes. She reached out a stroked her daughter's blonde hair.

"Is love easy?" Katie asked after some time.

"Name three things you love dearly," Mum said in return.

"Quidditch, transfiguration, and…" _Oliver_. But she didn't say that aloud, instead she added, "Pumpkin pasties."

Mum rolled her eyes at the last item. "Well, besides the pasties, did anything on your list come easily?"

"No. Oliver made me work really hard to be good at Quidditch. As for transfiguration…well, I love it because it _is_ hard and I feel rewarded when I do it well."

"Loving somebody is no different," Mum answered. "Being in love, staying in love, is hard. Being married is hard. Being a mother is hard. But it's worth it. Every moment and every tear. After all, when has anything worth having ever come easily?"

_I am so proud of you for taking charge of your family. I think you underestimate yourself, though. Why wouldn't Alex want to go for a fly? It's where I'd want to be. Besides, being near you is probably enough. Just remember to follow your instincts, Oliver. They are as good off the pitch as they are on. Trust yourself._

_Write again,_ _love_ _. Write as often as you want, whenever you want. My heart is with you and I want to offer you my strength when yours is failing._

_I'll see you when I see you._

_Yours,_

_Katie_

oOo

_Dear Katie,_

_You were right about Alex._

Percy, bless him, remembered to pack Oliver's broom. He wasn't opposed to using his father's on principle, the Nimbus 2000 was a fine model. But when you have been flying the latest Firebolt for over a year? Well, it spoils a person a bit.

However, access to a broom was not the issue.

Getting past Mum to go for a fly was the obstacle at hand. This was no minor task, she had been hovering over Oliver and Alex all day. Normally, Oliver would have enlisted Catriona's assistance, but she wasn't really up to the task. There was Percy, but Mum found nothing about Percy interesting whatsoever, so that was out.

Finally, the brothers came up with a plan. Alex claimed need of a nap and disappeared upstairs. After a few minutes, Oliver excused himself and made his way to the stairs as well. Mum bustled out of the kitchen, falling in step behind Oliver like a shadow.

He stopped and turned abruptly on the first step. "What are you doing?" he asked.

Mum looked a little shocked. "I-ah-was going to…"

"I'm going for a piss, Mum," Oliver lied. "I've been managing it on my own since I was three, I don't think I need you to accompany me."

"Bertie," Dad admonished, appearing from the library, "he's a grown man, let him breathe for Merlin's sake."

Mum backed off. A part of Oliver felt guilty. Having Alex or himself near seemed to be Mum's only comfort, but Dad would look after her. At the moment, Oliver was more concerned for his brother. Alex looked like he needed a good dose of fresh air and wide open spaces.

"And Oliver," Dad barked as the younger man strode to the stairs. "Watch your language. This is your home, not a Quidditch pitch. And that is your mother, not a Beater."

"Yes, sir," Oliver mumbled, feeling less like the 'grown man' he was supposed to be.

Oliver made the top of the stairs and found his brother peering out his room with an expression that was a mix of anxiety and excitement. The older brother looked over his shoulder one more time, half expecting his mother to be standing there ready to scold him, but she wasn't. Oliver found himself grinning as he motioned for Alex to follow him and the two of them tiptoed down the hall.

It seemed wrong that he should be grinning at a time like this. But Oliver was looking forward to this time in the crisp, fresh air with Alex. The two of them slipped into Fergus' room. Oliver looked around the familiar settings. Like his room, Mum had stripped away the trappings of boyhood, but there lingered and essence of Fergus. His smell maybe, cologne and leather. Oliver took a moment to savor it. His mind eye saw the room as it used to be: Gryffindor banner over the bed, his favorite blue blanket thrown on the bed in a wad, practice Quaffle in the chair, text books stacked in the corner.

Oliver wondered where Fergus' blanket was now. Probably in his flat in London. Oliver smiled to himself as he remembered all the times Dougal and he would wind Fergus up over it.

" _Don't forget your blankey, baby brother."_

" _Aren't you a little old to be sleeping with your blankey still?"_

" _Piss off, the both of you!"_

Shaking off his memories, Oliver crossed the room to the window and hoisted up the sash. A bracing wind slapped him in the face. It was sunny and clear, the perfect weather for a fly. He wedged himself out of the window—had his mother magically shrunk it?—onto the rather convenient branch of the great oak that grew up alongside the house. He shimmied down to the ground. Funny how some skills never left you.

"Come on," Oliver called up and watched as his little brother crawled out the window onto the tree limb.

"You did this all the time?" Alex asked as he wrapped his arms around the trunk.

"Often enough. It was trickery if Fergus wasn't on your side. He'd enchant his window with a Caterwauling Charm if he was mad at you. It would wake up the whole house."

"I remember that," Alex said as he jumped to the ground, a wan smile on his face. "Mum would start screaming."

"The worst was Dad the next morning," Oliver continued as he trooped off to the broom shed. "He'd wake you up at dawn and make you do chores without breakfast."

"Well, I guess I am unlikely to be caught," Alex said sadly.

Oliver looked over his shoulder at him, but said nothing. It was a moment's work to fetch their brooms and kick off. The wind was cold as it whipped their faces and stung their eyes. If some of the tears were from more than the wind, who would know the difference? They flew over the house, above the dog-shaped weather vane and the chimneys puffing smoke. Over the wide expanse of the makeshift Quidditch pitch where Oliver had spent countless hours catching Quaffles hurled at him by Dougal and Fergus. They sped over the wood and to the top of Little Hill.

The brothers landed, dropping their brooms carelessly and trudged to the edge of the cliff. Oliver plopped down, cross-legged, and stared out over his childhood home. Alex sat next to Oliver, though not as close to the edge. He picked at the dry, yellowed grass.

"Did you come up here with Dougal and Fergus?" Alex asked after some time passed.

"Aye, we played up here as boys, then later it was a good place to hide from Mum or just think." He pointed over the large rock to the west. "Don't you remember the little tree house we used as a fort?"

Alex shook his head. "I never played up here."

"Really?" Oliver asked, shocked.

"You lot were gone to Hogwarts by the time I was old enough to play."

Oliver thought about that. There was thirteen years between Fergus and Alex, fifteen for Dougal. Heck, Dougal had been with Catriona for a year already when Alex was born. Oliver had never had a close relationship with Alex, but he always assumed it was different with the other two because….Well, because they were the big brothers.

"I-I don't have any memories of them," Alex whispered out of the blue.

"That's not true," Oliver said automatically. "You remembered the Caterwauling Charm."

Alex shrugged, then he hugged his knees to his chest. "It's been bothering me since last night," he admitted. "I'm sad about them dying, but I wonder if I'm sad enough? I mean, they were my brothers, weren't they? But I think I would be just as sad if Ernie died."

Oliver studied his hands, realizing just how much he had taken his older brothers for granted. They had been a fact of life since his first breath. His earliest memory was of sneaking scones out of the kitchen with Fergus before some fancy tea Mum was hosting. Dougal had taken the blame when they'd been caught in a pile of crumbs and butter. Oliver thought he was maybe three at the time.

Alex was an afterthought, a footnote. One more brother at home while Oliver got on the Hogwarts Express for the first time under the protective eye of Dougal. A babe in nappies when Oliver made the Gryffindor Quidditch team second year, the only year he would play with both his brothers on the team. A kid learning to fly when Oliver's team won the House Cup. An eleven-year-old just starting Hogwarts when Oliver was playing for Puddlemere.

Oliver just assumed that Dougal would take the initiative to be the big brother Alex deserved, the big brother Oliver had grown up with. But when would Dougal have had time? During OWL year? When he was shagging Catriona in the broom closet? When he was getting married? Starting work at the apothecary? Having a baby?

Guilt stabbed Oliver's gut as well. As the brother closet in age to Alex, maybe he should have tried harder. Why had he waited until Alex was twelve to bring him up to Little Hill? Oliver should have taught his little brother how to murder Ernie at Gobstones before he left for Hogwarts. Oliver should have known how Alex passed his time at Red's Wood while his brothers were off living their own lives.

Oliver didn't know what to do, what to say. He'd never felt grief like this before, he didn't know how to guide Alex through it. Oliver tried to think of what Dougal would say at this moment. Or remember a dirty joke that Fergus had told him to make Alex laugh. With a resigned sigh, Oliver slung an arm over Alex's shoulders, pulling him close. Alex leaned his head against Oliver's shoulder and the brothers sat atop the hill until they couldn't feel their noses anymore.

_But we got in so much trouble with Mum for sneaking out of the house. She screamed at me until she was red in the face. I thought she was going to ground me. I am twenty-one-years old! But it reminded me of how Dougal always got the worst of it. He was the oldest, he was supposed to set a good example. Fergus could always charm Mum out of punishing him. That's where he learned all of his skills with the ladies._

_In the end, I was saved by my brothers. Dougal and Fergus were brought home with a full honor guard, no less. Including Mad Eye Moody and McGongall. There is a little chapel here at Red's Wood and that is where they are laid out. Mum was the calmest I've seen her since I returned home. Dad viewed the bodies for only a moment before disappearing into the library. Me and Alex pretty much did the same thing. But Mum and Catriona have been keeping vigil ever since._

_I don't understand women, Katie, as well you know. I really don't understand that kind of strength, but I admire it._

_Yours,_

_Oliver_

oOo

_Dear Katie,_

_Fair warning, lass. I'm pissed._

Later that night, Percy strode into the dark, lonely sitting room. "Alex asleep?"

"Aye," Oliver responded from his spot in front of the fire. "He fell asleep in my bed again."

"Good, excellent." Percy stood in front of Oliver and puffed out his chest. "I consulted the Best Mate's Rule Book."

Oliver quirked one eyebrow, half amused despite himself. "Oh?"

"Yes, indeed," Percy responded pompously. "And the rules in this type of situation are quite clear."

"Enlighten me, Perce."

Percy plunked two bottles of fire whiskey down on the table before Oliver. "It is my duty, as your best mate, to get you stinking drunk."

"Are you sure you weren't reading the section on stag parties?" Oliver asked as he took one bottle reverently in his hands.

"No, it was very specific on these matters, in fact. So as to avoid any embarrassing instances of sober weeping, I am to get you so drunk that if you were to start crying we could just blame the drink or, better yet, not remember it at all."

"Well," Oliver said, pulling out the cork, "as you are always one to follow the rules, I suppose we should commence."

"Indeed, I have a reputation to think of, after all." Percy took the other bottle. "Just don't drink so much that you puke. Your mother will kill me."

"I think we'd both be on the receiving end of her wrath." Oliver paused and looked Percy in the eye. "Thanks, mate."

Percy shrugged, his neck going red. "Let's save the sentimentality for the booze, shall we?"

"Can't argue with that," Oliver concurred and took a swig of the fire whiskey.

_Nobody understands why Percy and I are friends, but I'll tell you why. I never have to talk to Percy. We can sit in perfect silence and understand one another. I like that._

Oliver was sprawled before the fire, holding a shot of fire whiskey in the air. "To Dougal because he didn't laugh at me when I was eleven and homesick at Hogwarts for the first time."

"I can't drink any more, Ollie," Percy complained.

"To Fergus because he did laugh at me, the sodding bastard!"

"Ollie, if I drink anymore I am going to be sick."

"You," Oliver accused, "are a lightweight."

"You outweigh me by two stone," Percy whinged.

"Of pure muscle."

Percy gingerly lay down on his back next to Oliver. "Yes, yes, you're an Adonis."

They lapsed into silence. The image of his brothers' dead bodies came to Oliver's mind's eye. He could only bear to look for a moment before he'd had to turn away. It had been like they were asleep, but they were unnaturally pale and their skin waxy. Having Alex at his side had been a convenient excuse to escape the chapel. Watching his father's hurried retreat had made it feel less cowardly.

Tears came to Oliver's eyes, though, as he remembered his mother. She had been more herself as she accepted condolences from McGonagall and a cake from Bill Weasley, sent by his mother. Mum's eyes had been clear and dry as she looked on first Dougal, then Fergus. She'd stroked their hair and kissed their faces, took care to fold their hands over their chests peacefully.

Catriona had silent tears on her cheeks. She passed the baby to Bill, who was trying to offer his support to his old friend. She'd gone to Dougal's side, kissed his mouth, and then buried her head in his chest. Oliver could remember the way her shoulder's shook, how alone she looked. It seemed so strange that Dougal hadn't put his arms around her.

Now, alone with Percy in the dark house, Oliver threw his arm over his eyes and sobbed for all the blows the last forty-eight hours had delivered. He'd lost his brothers, his heroes. Both of his parents had been shown fallible. Catriona, he couldn't imagine Catriona without Dougal. Would she be alone for the rest of her life?

And Merlin, but he was really fucking things up with Alex.

Oliver felt Percy's hand on top of his. Before Oliver could think twice about it, he turned his hand so that he was clasping Percy's. They would never speak of this and Oliver needed to feel connected to something…someone solid.

_Percy and I have a billion brothers between us, you'd think we wouldn't need another one, but Percy is a brother to me. We don't talk about it, but I know it goes both ways. I don't know how I would get through this without him._

_Merlin's beard, I am drunk and maudlin. I hope I have no memory of writing this letter. Please burn it._

_Yours (because I am, you know that, right?), Oliver_

oOo

Katie smoothed her finger over the last line of the letter, tears in her eyes. Bless Percy Weasley. She would always think fondly of him for his steadfast friendship to Oliver. It made her question everything she knew about the third Weasley brother.

Katie folded the letter and tucked it in with the rest. There was no way she would burn it, but she wouldn't show it to Oliver. The previous letters had been open and honest, but this one was raw and emotional. She knew he would be embarrassed to have so much of his soul exposed, but she would treasure it.

_Dear Oliver,_

_The Healers are talking about releasing me soon. I'll head back to Hogwarts to finish seventh year, but I could take a small detour to other parts of Scotland if you like?_

_Yours, Katie_

_Dear, Katie_

_That is wonderful news! But you should go back to Hogwarts. You've lost six months of your life already, don't waste any more time coming around here. The Quidditch season is still going on. I know you've missed a few games, but surely Harry will let you finish off the season. If you are up to it, that is. Go play your last game of Quidditch for the Gryffindors. It makes me happy to think of you on a broomstick. Is Harry any kind of Captain? My memory of him is as a thirteen-year-old. Honestly, I think you should have been made captain after Angelina._

_There's NEWTs too, I suppose._

_Yours, Oliver_

_Dear Oliver, You Mad Quidditch Fanatic,_

_I laughed out loud when I read your last letter. Quidditch, indeed. So, I decided to indulge your madness and write all about Quidditch. I hope it makes your day…_

_Harry is captain in name only. Ginny Weasley runs the team. She is the best Chaser I have ever seen, Angelina included. She's versatile too. She played Seeker last year after that horrible Umbridge woman kicked Harry off the team. Ginny caught the Snitch to win us the Cup, she did. Honestly, after watching Ginny play I understand why Charlie didn't go professional. For all of his talent, he didn't have the drive. Not like Ginny. Or you, for that matter. Puddlemere would do well to keep an eye on her._

_Ron Weasley draws up the plays. Apparently he's a Wizard's Chess prodigy. Did you know that? Affable fellow, but I always figured the Weasley brains skipped that one. Although, I am not too far off on that. You should see him floundering around the common room with Lavender Brown. You probably don't remember Lavender, she's in Harry's year and has no interest in Quidditch (only the players, if you know what I mean?). Well, that is all I have to say about Lavender._

_I am surprisingly fit for being in a coma for six months, but I don't know if I'm Quidditch-ready yet. I would like to round out my career though. You've told me before that you like to watch me fly. Now I wonder what you mean by that. Hm, Oliver? Just how 'happy' are you when you imagine me flying?_

_I could still come to you. Playing Quidditch isn't the only thing I have lost in these last six months. It's weird, Oliver. I have lost so much time and it scares me how easily it happened. I don't like being collateral damage._

_I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get serious._

_Your, Katie_

oOo

_Dear Katie,_

_I had a row with Percy…_

Oliver tried to tie his cravat for the third time only to make a mess of it again. With a sigh, he stalked down the hall to the guest room. He gave a perfunctory knock before striding in to find Percy standing by the window that overlooked the front garden.

"Hey, mate," Oliver grunted, one end of the cravat in each hand. "Can you tie this for me?"

Percy looked at him, pushing his glasses up his nose. Wordlessly, he walked over to Oliver and began the complicated knots for a proper cravat. Oliver lifted his chin to give Percy better access, but he was watching his friend. Percy looked pale and nervous.

"What's got your wand in a twist?" Oliver finally asked.

Percy sighed. "Charlie's here."

"Yeah. That's no surprise. Charlie and Fergus were best mates."

"I haven't seen Charlie since I left home," Percy admitted sheepishly.

"You see Bill, what's the difference?"

"Bill doesn't give me a choice, does he?" Percy replied, an edge of panic to his voice. "Just shows up out of the blue and pushes his way in with some tripe about family." Percy shook his head, then mumbled, "Charlie is going to punch me in the face."

"No, he won't," Oliver said in exasperation. "Not because you don't deserve it, but because Charlie won't disrespect Fergus like that."

Percy looked up at Oliver wearily. There was hurt in his eyes. All this time, Oliver had refrained from telling Percy just what he thought of the ginger's estrangement from his family. Percy was more than capable of beating himself up without Oliver piling on. Besides, no one else was in Percy's corner.

"Maybe this would be a good time for you to make amends, Perce," Oliver advised softly.

Percy paced away, wringing his hands worriedly. "How?"

"Start with _hello_ and sees where it takes you."

"It's not that simple."

Anger flared in Oliver's chest, surprising him. He knew that Percy was wrong. _Percy_ knew that he was wrong. This was unspoken between the two of them for two damn years. No matter what his personal feelings were, however, Oliver was determined to be on Percy's side matter what. But this separation was hurting Percy and maybe a good friend would intervene.

More than that, however, Oliver couldn't understand why Percy was letting an argument, some harsh words, keep him away from his family. Every member of the Weasley family was involved in the war effort; it was only a matter of time before…Percy shouldn't be wasting his time. That way led to heartbreak.

Oliver should know.

"That's your problem, Percy!" Oliver exploded, surprised again by his vehemence.

Percy turned to him, his expression shocked.

"I am going to bury both of my brothers today," Oliver continued, tears burning at the back of his eyes. "How long until it's one of yours?"

"Shut up!" Percy shot back, his face contorted as if in pain.

"You are so smart and so stupid," Oliver spat. "End this nonsense before all you are left with is regret."

"Don't you realize that I already live with regret?" Percy demanded hotly. "Regret is all I have."

"You don't have to live with that, Percy. Apologize and go home."

"You don't understand!" Percy burst out, tears rolling down his face.

"Then enlighten me, oh brilliant one."

"How can I look them in the eye?"

"They will forgive you for being an idiot, Percy, they love you."

"No!" Percy exclaimed. "After all they have done, how can I—spineless git that I am—ever look them in the eye? I have done nothing, but be a toady, a lackey."

"Let go of your pride before it's too late!" Oliver shouted.

"What do you know?" Percy shouted back. "You've never betrayed your family like I have. You are the great Quidditch hero, no one is ever going to see you as lacking."

Oliver was rendered momentarily speechless with anger. It never ceased to amaze him how somebody as smart as Percy could be so damned dense. Yet, in the dozen or so years they had known each other, Percy had proven it possible time and again.

"I play reserve for Puddlemere United," Oliver shouted, sarcasm thick in his tone, "that sure as hell compares to being martyred in this bloody war with Voldermort. Maybe I am not as big a prat as you, Percy, but I've sat on the sidelines just the same. There is plenty of time left in this war for you to prove your manhood if that is what you are worried about."

"You don't understand," Percy blustered, shaking his head.

"No, I don't,'" Oliver agreed, advancing on his friend. "You have five brothers and a sister alive and well. For how much longer, Percy?"

"Shut up!" Percy yelled, pushing Oliver away. "Shut up!"

"I would give anything for one more day with my brothers," Oliver said harshly. "I would give up Quidditch, I would give up my right arm, anything, for one more hour with Dougal and Fergus. Why are you being so stupid? Go. Home."

"I want to," Percy whimpered.

"Then just do it already!"

"I can't," Percy cried. "Not yet. I have to…I have to…"

"You have to get your head out of your arse."

Percy pushed past Oliver. All at once, Oliver realized that Percy was walking out on him. Panic shot through Oliver. He grabbed Percy's arm, but he yanked it out of Oliver's grasp.

"Don't walk out on me," Oliver demanded, his voice forceful despite the alarm that was skating across his nerves.

"You don't understand," Percy muttered, walking out the door.

Oliver followed him, realizing for the first time that Alex and Catriona were both standing in the hallway witnessing the whole scene. Damn Percy.

"I can't," Percy was saying. "I can't."

"Of course you can, Percy," Oliver was saying desperately. "You are stronger than you know."

"Not here," Percy muttered. "Not now."

"Don't walk out on me, Percy!" Oliver bellowed desperately as he watched his best mate take the stairs two at a time.

The dark-haired wizard was halfway down the stairs when Percy broke into a dead run. He was out the door and gone in a moment. Oliver cursed, slamming his hand against the wall. Dad was at the bottom of the stairs now, looking up at him mournfully. Catriona was looking down at him with the baby on her hip, her expression sympathetic.

"Oliver," Alex said incredulously. "What was all that? Is Percy your boyfriend?"

"What?" Oliver demanded, looking at his brother in disbelief. For a moment, he was taken back to Dougal's sitting room last October before everything went cockeyed. Oliver shook it off. "No. He's a stupid prat. And I like girls!"

_I am going to kill Percy when I see him again. I can't believe the prat left me right before the funeral. Alex was looking to me for strength, but who did I have to look to? I have never had to be the strong one. I always had a brother to rely on. Even when you were in the coma, Fergus was with me more nights than I can count._

_I am so mad at Percy. And so sad, too. I never thought he would walk out on me._

_Yours, Oliver_


	8. Return To Hogwarts

_Dear Oliver,_

_The Healers are releasing me. I'll be returning to Hogwarts in two days…_

Katie was over the moon to be leaving St. Mungo's. After the first few days, she'd begun to feel cooped up and longed to go for a fly over the wide open space of Hogwarts. Now that she was being released, she felt apprehensive. Would she be able to keep up with her studies? Would all the other students act as if she were made of glass? Or worse, like a pariah? How would she answer the questions they would surely have about the incident with the necklace?

Already, she had been interviewed by several Aurors and Professor McGonagall. Katie could give them no answers, her mind was a blank slate from the time she went to the bathroom at the Three Broomsticks until she'd woke up nearly two weeks ago. They were all very understanding. In fact, they all expected her to respond just as she did. That bothered Katie more than anything.

Was the person who did this to her at Hogwarts? A citizen of Hogsmeade? Professor McGonagall, as well as her friends, had explained that Professor Dumbledore was the intended target, that she, Katie, was just the vessel. They said this as if she should find comfort in it, but she didn't. She found it disturbing that somebody so casually used her and nearly killed her in the process. Whoever it was had been careless for another's life and that made her angry.

The would-be murderer was only part of her worries. She was also concerned for Oliver. Percy still had not returned. Oliver had mentioned it in his letters in passing, but she could sense a strain in his words. If she ever got her hands on that red-headed prat…

"We got your owl!" Angelina announced, as she and Alicia sauntered into Katie's hospital room.

Alicia hugged Katie. "Congratulations on being sprung from this place."

"Thank you," Katie said with a smile. "But I'll miss seeing you lot every day."

"Of course you will," Angelina said. She was extracting magically shrunken bags from her pockets and enlarging them with her wand.

"You might be wondering what my beautiful assistant is doing," Alicia said with an excited smile. "You, Catherine Bell, are getting a full make over."

"Um, no, really…"

"Darling," Angelina drawled, fingering a hank of Katie's long, blonde hair, "being on your back for six months has done nothing for your hair."

"That's what ponytails are for?" Katie squeaked. It was true, her hair reached past her shoulder blades and it had been rather limp since she woke from her coma. Alicia had already cut off an inch of split ends and performed a number of beauty spells on it to no effect.

"Katie Bell, it's time for a new look," Angelina asserted, a blazing look in her eyes.

When Katie tried to protest again, Alicia interrupted, "You are going back to Hogwarts triumphant. Show those prats with the masks and capes that it's going to take more than a little dark magic to keep the Muggleborns down."

Alicia's words were unsettling. Katie didn't much like being the face of Muggleborn oppression. And yet something about it struck a chord with her. This was her war more than it was Alicia and Angelina's, both half-bloods. This war was being fought for the right of people like Katie to live in the Wizarding society. Maybe she had been dragged into it by chance, but she was involved and she couldn't turn away from it now.

"Okay, ladies," Katie said with determination. "Do your worst."

oOo

Wolf whistles pierced Katie's eardrums the next morning as she read the latest letter from Oliver. She was sitting at the small table by the faux window, already dressed. She'd given up her hospital gown a week ago. She felt like a sloth sitting around in her pajamas all day. Her hair curled neatly under her chin in a bouncy, shiny bob.

"We were looking for Katie Bell," George said.

"But we found a fox instead," Fred finished.

"What was I before?" Katie demanded.

The twins exchanged bewildered looks. "She sounds like a girl," Fred whispered.

George elbowed his brother and saved the day by saying, "Cute as a button, you were."

Katie rolled her eyes. "I will have you know," she growled. "Your brother is a horrible, terrible, awful git!"

"She must be speaking of you, brother dearest," Fred said with his trademark grin.

"And how do you figure that, brother of mine?" George responded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, I inherited all the charm so it can't be me," Fred began. "She doesn't know Bill and what female ever called Bill a 'git'?"

"The ones he left in his wake on his way to the beautiful quarter Veela?" George put in.

"And it can't be Charlie, he made her team mascot when she was just a little firstie. Ron, well, it could be Ronniekins."

"Could be," George concurred, rocking back on his heels.

"But it probably isn't," Fred dismissed.

"Probably not."

"Could be the other brother," Fred said darkly.

"What other brother?" George said in return.

"Exactly. So, it must be you."

"Would you two shut it," Katie snapped.

She was perhaps the only person who knew what Percy and Oliver meant to one another. She couldn't believe that Percy would walk out on Oliver like that. If she ever got her hands on that ginger bastard she would throttle him.

"Boys," Katie said decisively. "I need a Howler."

Identical evil grins shone on Katie Bell.

oOo

Hogsmeade, Late April

_Dear Oliver,_

_Alicia and I escorted Katie safely to the gates of Hogwarts and turned her over to the care of McGonagall. We know you are having a rough time of it and wanted to send you something to keep you warm at night. Hope you enjoy the picture we've included._

_(You had better be keeping fit up there, Wood. I want to know that I kicked your arse because I am a superb Chaser next season!)_

_Angelina_

The world stopped spinning and solid ground came under Katie's feet with a suddenness that nearly knocked her on her arse. Angelina and Alicia had their arms linked through Katie's keeping her on her feet. They were also laughing at her less than graceful Disapparation.

"Good morning, ladies," called Professor McGonagall from where she was standing alongside Hagrid by the gates. "And welcome back, Miss Bell, you have been missed."

Katie smiled at her Head of House, but then found herself being squashed as Hagrid swept her into a crushing embrace. She felt fat teardrops raining down on her face as she tried to catch her breath.

"I thought yeh were a goner, I did," Hagrid sobbed.

"I'm glad to see you too, Hagrid," Katie gasped.

He set her down and Katie found herself floundering on her feet once more. Hagrid pulled a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth from his pocket and blew his nose noisily.

Once she had her balance, Katie reached up and touched Hagrid's arm. "Thank you," she said sincerely, feeling a rush of emotion.

"Katie," Angelina called with a devilish grin. "Quick picture before we go."

oOo

London

That Same Day

_Percy Weasley!_

Percy was standing in the Minister's office, finalizing his notes on the morning meeting with the Head of the Auror Department. He could do this work without any real thought which was good because in the past week, he had been walking through life as a ghost. Simply going through the motions, without being able to savor the taste of food or enjoy the restoration of sleep. The only thing he felt was deep, aching remorse.

Just when Percy thought he couldn't sink any further, he'd walked out on his best mate just when Oliver needed him most.

Percy was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of his name being screamed angrily. He looked up to find an owl circling overhead, having just dropped a…Oh Merlin, that was a Howler. In the Minister's office. With the Minister standing ten feet away.

"Mum?" Percy asked in a tremulous voice as if the Howler would respond.

Everybody, Percy noticed, was staring at the infamous red letter. He didn't even have to open it for it to spring to life.

_How dare you walk out on Oliver, you pompous git!_

Was that…Katie Bell's voice?

_Right before his brothers' funeral? You are a selfish, cold bastard. Oliver needed you, you prat. And he loves you for some reason that I do not understand. Because you DO NOT deserve him. Take your scrawny, self-important arse back to Red's Wood this instant or you will have one angry Chaser to deal with. Mark my words, Percy Weasley, I will hex you into the next century if you don't make this right!_

The Howler exploded magnificently, a lingering black puff of smoke hanging over Percy's head. Percy's shoulders slumped and he tried to make himself very small indeed. Well, he couldn't say he didn't deserve every insult or moment of humiliation.

oOo

_Dear Oliver,_

_My first day back has been exhausting. Poor Leanne hasn't left me side for a moment. I think she feels guilty or something. Although, I hope she doesn't feel compelled to stick by my side quite so much tomorrow…_

"Your hair is different."

Katie's quill stopped. Standing over her was the one person who seemed to have been avoiding her all day. As far as she was concerned, he could go right on doing just that. She glanced around the common room before looking up at the person who had spoken to her.

"Hello, Hal," she said in a perfectly even tone.

"Hi, Kates," he said sheepishly.

"Surprised to see me?"

Hal swallowed hard. "I-I am glad you recovered, Katie."

"That makes two of us."

He stood awkwardly before her and she could feel the whole common room looking at them. Just like she never wanted to conduct their snogging in front of all of Gryffindor tower, she didn't want to have their conversation in public either. What was this anyway? He'd already dumped her-she'd read that letter before tossing it in the bin—so they weren't breaking up. Katie reminded herself that she had thought fondly of him once.

"Maybe we could find a more private place to talk?" she suggested.

Hal blew out a long breath. "Yeah, I would like that."

_I'm sure you_ would, Katie thought bitterly. _Where was all this discretion when you were trying to feel me up in the common room, prat?_ Katie tucked her letter to Oliver carefully into her rucksack and set it aside. She stood and brushed past Hal, heading for the portrait hole. Leanne was watching them from a nearby sofa, her eyes narrowed at Hal.

Katie led him out the portrait hole and away from the straining ears of the Fat Lady. She found a window that normally overlooked the Black Lake, but tonight just reflected her own image. Crossing her arms, she turned to Hal with a frown.

"So you dumped me via letter while I was in a coma," she stated archly. "That's pretty low."

Hal rubbed the back of his neck, unable to look at her. "Yeah, that was not one of my finer moments."

"I haven't lost much sleep over it," she replied sarcastically. "Well, I was in a coma for six months, I am generally well rested."

A snort of laughter escaped Hal. "Look, I-I just wanted to say sorry. That was a real arsehole move."

Katie took pity on her old boyfriend. "I suppose I understand where you were coming from…sort of," she conceded. "I understand I was pretty near death."

Hal's face paled. "It was pretty frightening, actually. I've never known anyone who died before. But that was only part of it, albeit the biggest part."

"What else? I thought we were going pretty strong before I was cursed," Katie asked, her brow furrowed.

"Well, yeah, we were great," Hal conceded. "But your friends didn't like me, did they? I mean Leanne liked me all right, but let's face it, Leanne's opinion isn't the one that counts."

"My opinion is the only one that counts," Katie countered, feeling her anger ratchet up again. "And I liked you pretty well."

"See," he said knowingly, "that's just it. You said you loved me, but it didn't go that deeply, did it?"

Katie opened her mouth to protest. If she were honest, she'd already come to that conclusion, but she didn't like having it tossed back at her like that. Hal, however, forestalled her objection with a flick of his hand.

"Don't deny it," he said. "I think we were both less in love than we thought. Seeing Wood at your bedside brought that home to me. I knew what would happen if you did wake up and I decided to get out of the way."

"Oh."

Now it was Katie's turn to feel like a prat. She hadn't meant for Hal to feel unwanted, even if she had been in a coma at the time. Offering a friendly smile, she took his hand and squeezed it.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't worry about it," he said gruffly, giving her hand a squeeze in return.

"You were important to me," Katie said. "You were my first real boyfriend."

"Thanks, same here." Hal cleared his throat. "So, are you and Wood together now?"

"Well…."

oOo

Red's Wood

That Same Night

Oliver was sitting across from his dad over a chess board when Percy slunk in. His head was hung, his shoulders slumped. Alex and Catriona were the first to see the ginger. With a grin, Catriona nudged Oliver in the shoulder.

"Your boyfriend's back," she teased.

Oliver pulled a face before turning to Percy. Oliver's heart burst with joy at the sight of his best mate, but he wasn't going to make it easy on Percy. Oliver was still plenty angry with the ginger wizard. He crossed his arms over his chest and sat back to wait.

"Your girlfriend sent me a Howler," Percy reported matter-of-factly. "In the Minister's office."

Oliver was so caught off guard that a loud guffaw escaped him. "Bell?"

"I have never been so humiliated," Percy complained. "She threatened to do unspeakable things to me if I didn't come apologize."

"What's this about a girlfriend?" Dad asked.

Oliver looked at his dad, blushing deeply. Yet, he noticed that Dad had a small smile on his face.

"She's a real spitfire," Percy reported. "Katie, she's a handful."

"And she sent you a Howler on my son's behalf?" Dad asked, chuckling. "I like this lass already."

"She's not my girlfriend," Oliver denied. "We…she…it's complicated."

"She's your girl, Oliver," Percy said quietly.

Oliver smiled to himself. He was glad to have Percy back. He also liked hearing Katie being called 'his girl.' Oliver stood then and took Percy by the elbow, directing him to the library.

"Where are you two going?" Alex asked with a cheeky grin. "Off for a snog?"

Oliver shot his little brother a dirty look. "No! He's my…Shut it, Alex!"

Dad cuffed Alex on the back of the head, but the boy was still laughing. Catriona was laughing too.

"What is that?" Percy asked, bewildered.

"Nothing," Oliver grumbled, leading Percy into the library and closing the door. "But we should spend less time together or we may never snog a girl again."

Inside the library, the two young wizards fell silent, assessing one another. Oliver was grim, his stance radiating hurt and anger. Percy was the very image of contriteness. There was a part of Oliver that wanted to take pity on Percy, but he couldn't. He was just too angry.

"I thought you walked out on me," Oliver snapped harshly.

"I think I have walked out on enough people, don't you?" Percy responded, his head hung.

"So what's one more?" Oliver demanded hotly. "Are you determined to be alone, you pretentious arsehole?"

Percy closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I deserve that."

Silence fell over the room as Percy's words lay between them. Oliver saw the self-loathing that Percy carried with him bared plainly. It hurt Oliver to see his friend's pain and know he couldn't help Percy shoulder it. Percy had chosen his path and he must trudge it on his own. Oliver wished, however, that Percy would come to his senses.

When Oliver spoke, his voice was mild, "No, you don't."

Percy looked beseechingly to his best mate. "I always intended to come back."

"I reckon I'll have to take your word on that," Oliver replied tersely.

"I wish you understood, Oliver," Percy began desperately.

Slowly, Oliver said, "Help me understand then."

"I want to go back, I do," Percy said. "I have for a long time, but…"

"No 'buts,'" Oliver interrupted.

Anger flashed across Percy's face for a moment, then it was controlled. "I have to prove myself. I have to prove that I deserve to go back."

"Your family will never ask that of you."

" _I_ require it," Percy insisted, pointing at himself with a tightly clenched hand. "I want to be able to look my brothers in the eye. I want my dad to respect me. None of that can happen if I don't do my part."

Maybe he understood Percy better than either of them thought. Now that the funeral was over, Oliver's mind had turned to the realities of the war. He burned to snatch up the standard and fight in his brothers' place.

" _For he to-day that sheds his blood with me/Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,_ " Oliver murmured more to himself.

"What?" Percy asked.

"It's from Shakespeare's _Henry V_ ," Oliver answered. " _For he to-day that sheds his blood with me/Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile/This day shall gentle his condition;/And gentlemen in England now-a-bed/Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,/And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks/That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day."_

Oliver shrugged, stuffing his hands in trouser pockets. "It's the bit I had to memorize for Muggle Studies back in fifth year."

"I can't believe you still remember that. I long ago forgot my bit."

"Maybe because you choose _Romeo and Juliet_ because you were angling to get in Penny's knickers, you great prat," Oliver replied, offering a grin. Then he turned serious again and said, "But that is neither here nor there. What are you planning?"

"I don't know," Percy admitted.

"Well, count me in," Oliver said. "I can't sit this out anymore."

Percy nodded. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "Would you like to break my nose?"

Oliver laughed. "Maybe later, mate."

"Just give me warning, so I can remove my glasses first."

"Fair enough," Oliver agreed.

_Bell,_

_Sending Percy a howler in the Ministry was brilliant! Even my dad thought so. It's the first time in days I've seen him smile, let alone laugh. But remind me never to piss you off._

_Yours, Ollie_

_My Ollie Oliver,_

_You told your dad about me?_

_Your Bell_

oOo

First of May

_Dear Oliver,_

_Quidditch practice is kicking my arse. All that hard-won stamina I earned from the Quidditch Nazi seems to have been sucked out of me as I languished. Harry keeps clucking after me to not 'overexert' myself. The Chosen One is bloody annoying._

Katie leaned her head back against the locker tiredly. She'd been back on the team for a week; this was her third practice. At the moment, every muscle hurt, she was drenched in sweat, and she was too exhausted to make it to the showers.

"You're doing great, Katie," Ginny Weasley said as she stuffed her gear in her duffle bag. "It's really impressive how well you are doing, considering."

Katie looked at Ginny from the corner of her eye. "Thanks, but I feel bloody awful. I am not the Chaser Oliver trained."

"It'll come back to you."

"Before the last match hopefully. Maybe I should step aside and let Dean finish off the season?"

"Give it another week," Ginny advised darkly and Katie remembered that the girl had recently ditched Dean Thomas.

Katie smiled at the younger girl. "Cheers."

Ginny slung her bag over her shoulder and wished Katie a good night before heading out of the changing rooms. Katie looked up just in time to see the ginger Chaser give Harry Potter a longing look as she passed by him. Katie smirked. Well, that didn't seem surprising. Half the population of Hogwarts seemed to want Harry this year, now that he'd gained a good five inches in height and sprouted some chin stubble. It was even less surprising that Harry's own look towards Ginny was just as hot. Unfortunate, then, that they both missed the other's glance.

"Hey, Katie," Harry greeted. "Great practice. You doing all right?"

"Harry Potter, if you ask after my health one more time I am going to hex you," Katie said, but she was too tired to put much force behind her words.

Harry looked concerned. Katie rolled her eyes.

That is when she realized that they were alone. She endeavored to sit up. Katie's questions about the cursed necklace still niggled her and she was willing to bet that Harry Potter had some answers. If there was one thing she had learned in her nearly six years of acquaintance with the Boy Who Lived it was that Harry always knew the details of whatever manky thing that was going on at Hogwarts.

"Harry, do you have a moment?"

"Yeah, sure, what can I do for you?"

"Do you know who cursed me?" Katie asked forthrightly.

Harry sat on the bench across from Katie, his face set in serious lines. "I can't prove it."

"But you have a theory?"

"It should be noted that no one agrees with me on this account."

"I'm listening."

"And to be clear, Hermione thinks I'm obsessed."

"She would," Katie scoffed. "Hermione is too skeptical to believe anything without proof."

"Some would call her logical," Harry said, as if he'd taken offense.

Katie rolled her eyes. "I'm listening," she repeated.

"I think it was Draco Malfoy."

Katie's eyebrows lifted. The malice between Potter and Malfoy was no secret. No wonder Hermione was skeptical. Yet…

"Well, he was always a nasty little ferret, wasn't he?" Katie said shrewdly.

Harry grinned at the reference. "Yeah, he was."

"Do you think he choose me because I'm a Muggleborn?" Katie asked, voicing her deepest fear.

Harry looked at her in surprise. "I didn't know you were a Muggleborn."

"Really, Potter," Katie mocked with another eye roll, "you have got to pay more attention."

He grinned sheepishly, but answered her question anyway: "I reckon he might have, but I think he's pretty desperate and would have used anyone to do his dirty work for him."

"What is his dirty work, exactly?"

"To kill Dumbledore," he replied frankly.

"But why?"

"I suspect its orders from Voldemort."

Katie let that information sink in. Harry was so forthright about it all, but she supposed he would be. He'd been fighting You-Know-Who since he was a baby. Katie, however, was left feeling uneasy again. It kept coming back to that one thing for her: the time lost. Six months gone because of one boy's disregard for her life.

Tears came to Katie's eyes. She was so angry. How dare that little git try to murder somebody in the name of hate? How dare he think so little of her that he would use her without regard for her life?

"Do you really think he would have been so careless with a Pureblood's life, Harry?" Katie challenged.

That seemed to render Harry speechless.

"I want to fight You-Know-Who when I leave Hogwarts," Katie declared.

"There's nothing for you to do," Harry denied quickly.

"How can you say that?" Katie demanded incredulously.

"Just…I know that it will not require you to fight or sacrifice."

Oliver's sacrifices came to mind and Katie saw red. "You are really damned naïve if you believe that, Potter."

"Just trust me," Harry asserted.

"Of course I trust you," Katie said. "You're Harry Bloody Potter, but don't delude yourself. There is plenty of fighting left to do."

_On a more serious note, Harry thinks Draco Malfoy is the one who Imperiused me to deliver the necklace to Dumbledore. I am so angry…_

_Dear Katie,_

_That bloody little ferret had better hope he wasn't the one to hurt you or I will rip him apart…_

oOo

_Dear Katie,_

_Life has settled into some kind of routine…_

Life often began early at Red's Wood. As a boy, Oliver's mum and dad were always the first to rise. Mum would have breakfast made, while Dad read the Daily Prophet before leaving for work. Oliver and his brothers would file downstairs sleepily to eat and get on with chores so they could go for a fly.

After the funeral, life slowly began to resemble a normal pattern. Oliver continued with his routine of rising at five for a fly, but it was rarely Mum that met him in the kitchen. He suspected she was awake somewhere in the house, but she seemed hard-pressed to meet other people early in the day. Sometimes, Oliver would pass his dad on his way out to the broom shed for his own fly. Neither suggested flying together. Oliver suspected his dad needed the solitude as much as he did.

After the first week, it was a bleary-eyed Catriona that Oliver met in the kitchen. Campbell sat in a high chair as she fed him something that Oliver could only term gruel. Catriona had never been a morning person and it showed in her wild hair and listless demeanor. Campbell, on the other hand, seemed to have inherited the Wood's love of the mornings. He babbled happily as he spit out the gruel that his mum was trying to shovel into his mouth (not that Oliver could blame him).

Watching this routine for the third morning in a row, Oliver thought maybe it would be okay to speak to Catriona, despite the time. "Can I give it a try?"

She looked at him in surprise; there was gruel splattered on her face. "Sure, have at it."

They traded places. Catriona put her head down on her arms at the table. Oliver regarded the baby, who was staring back at his godfather just as interestedly. Campbell had Catriona's coloring, but he looked like Dougal. Oliver steered three spoonsful of the gruel into the baby's mouth successfully before he grabbed the spoon in one sticky fist and laughed heartily at Oliver.

"Hey!" Oliver exclaimed. "I need that, little man."

Oliver tried to pry the spoon loose, but only managed to get his own hands slimy. Finally, Campbell managed to wrestle the spoon from his uncle and waved it in the air with a triumphant crow, splattering gruel everywhere. Oliver laughed, delighted at the baby's antics.

"Catriona!" he called, noticing for the first time that Campbell's eyes were brown just like Dougal's were. "I thought Campbell had blue eyes."

Catriona lifted her head. "He did. All babies have blue eyes when they're born, Ollie."

Catriona's tone clearly conveyed that this was common knowledge and only a troll would not know. Oliver wondered why he should know the first thing about babies.

"I could get up with the baby in the mornings from now on," Oliver offered. "I've been watching you and I think I could manage it."

"I usually nurse him before we come downstairs," Catriona hedged. There was a sad look on her face.

Oliver sighed, feigning exasperation. "Catriona, are you going to _cry_? You are such a _girl._ "

A watery laugh escaped her. "No!"

But tears were falling down her face.

"Did Dougal take the early morning shift?" Oliver guessed, his voice pitched low.

"Aye," she replied, wiping her eyes. "I took the late night shift and Dougal did the early mornings. But I have to learn to do it all on my own now."

"No, you don't," Oliver said. "I can help out. Mum and Dad, too."

"I appreciate it, Oliver, but you aren't going to be there for the day-to-day things and I wouldn't ask it of you."

"I'm his godfather," Oliver argued. "I think Dougal would want me to help you raise him."

"Dougal wouldn't have asked you to give up your life to do so," Catriona asserted. "You have your career and Katie and someday you'll have your own babies. I will be glad to have you be in Campbell's life as much as you want to be, Ollie, but the everyday stuff is on me."

"At least accept the help as long as it's here at hand," Oliver pressed.

Catriona acquiesced and after that morning, Oliver fell into a new routine. He cut his flies short and returned to the house in time to fetch Campbell from his mum. Catriona rarely did much more than grunt at the two of them before returning to bed. Oliver prepared the gruel and attempted to feed the baby, which usually left the two of them sticky and coated in slime. After the first few mornings, Oliver figured it was best for the both of them just to be shirtless and head straight for the showers afterwards. Campbell seemed to enjoy this time with his uncle. Though, Oliver didn't tell anybody about the time the baby rolled off the bed. He was careful to put Campbell on the floor after that.

_Dear Katie,_

_I hope you don't mind me writing to you as we have never met. Oliver talks about you…well, as much as any Wood man talks about anything that isn't Quidditch or a broomstick. Oliver is awfully enamored of the picture he has of you and I thought you might like one of your own._

_Sincerely,_

_Catriona Wood_

Inside the envelope, Katie found a picture of a shirtless Oliver holding a naked redheaded baby. Oliver was in profile, the baby draped over his shoulder expertly. The little guy was looking directly at the camera. Oliver's bare shoulder and well-muscled arm were prominent in the picture as it curled around the baby's bottom. Then Oliver would turn his head, smile and kiss the baby's cheek.

Katie swallowed hard, then composed an exuberant thank you letter to Oliver's sister-in-law.

_Dear Oliver,_

_Saturday is the final Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. Harry has been banned from the game for (rumor has it) nearly murdering Malfoy. Ginny is playing Seeker, which has her very wound up. Dean Thomas is back on the team, who I have not played with before, but he has played with the other Chaser, Demelza Robbins. And I am not the Chaser you trained me into. Oh, and the Quidditch Cup is on the line. Merlin help us._

_Do you think you could make it up?_

_Your Katie_

* * *


	9. Time Out of Time

Katie couldn't remember this many butterflies in her stomach prior to a match since her first game as a second year. She'd barely touched breakfast and she'd taken to pacing around the changing room. She was a good Chaser, so much of her skill remained. But the stamina was gone. _Please let this be a short game._

"So, uh, who is acting Captain?" Ron asked.

Everybody looked to Katie, who shook her head.

"I may be the longest-playing, uh, player, but I have been out most of the season," Katie reasoned. "Ron, you draw up the plays, I think you should be calling them."

"Me?" he gasped, google-eyed.

"You're brilliant at Wizard Chess, yeah?" Katie interjected. "You'll do great."

"O-okay."

"What about the pregame speech?" Demelza asked.

"I'll paraphrase the great Oliver Wood," Katie said and in her best Scots accent, roared, "Fly! Fight! Win! Or die trying!"

The team laughed, a bit of the tension broken. The rest of the team crowded out of the changing room, but Katie pulled Ginny aside.

"You know," the blonde said to the ginger with a devilish glint in her eyes, "Oliver once told Harry to knock Cho Chang's head off to catch the Snitch."

Ginny's eyes were blazing. "Yeah?"

"I think the advice still applies."

Ginny laughed. The two girls linked arms and trooped out of the changing room into the sunshine. It was a perfect early spring day for Quidditch. The wind was brisk, the sun bright, just a hint of chill in the air. Standing in the mouth of the tunnel under the pitch, Katie took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the invigorating, crisp air.

And somewhere in those stands was Oliver Wood. Automatically, she turned to the Gryffindor hoops.

_This is it,_ Katie thought, _my last Quidditch match at Hogwarts._

With last instructions from Ron, the team marched onto the pitch, brooms shouldered, faces set. Moments later, they were airborne and the game commenced. Michael Corner took first possession for Ravenclaw and all of Katie's doubts sped away.

"Dean!" Katie hollered.

The black boy met her eye and the two of them flew directly at Corner. Seeing the double team, Corner tried to pass the Quaffle, only to have it stolen by Demelza. Katie turned her broom on a sickle, taking position just behind and to the left of Demelza. A Bludger came flying at the other chaser, but Demelza swerved just in time and passed to Dean. He sped ahead, met a double team and neatly passed to Katie. Katie drove the Quaffle the last leg and scored!

"Ten points to Gryffindor!" Colin Creevey screamed into the magically amplified megaphone. "Welcome back, Katie Bell!"

oOo

Oliver stood behind the Gryffindor hoops, eyes only for Katie. She was amazing on her broom, zipping in and out of players, jetting down the length of the pitch. Even from here, he could see her determination, but also the fun that she was having. He loved watching her play.

It had been none too easy to escape Red's Wood, even for the day. Mum did not want him out of her sight. Alex was mad as hell that Oliver was returning to Hogwarts without him. That, in truth, had made Oliver feel a bit guilty, but he had plans that did not include little brother tagging along. It made him smirk to think of all the times Dougal and Fergus had ditched _him_ for a girl. So, in all fairness, this was how big brothers acted.

Katie scored again and Oliver cheered with approval. She hovered just beyond the hoops and caught his eye. There was that joyous look in her eyes as she stared at him and Oliver felt it pierce his chest and zing straight to his groin. With a grin, almost as if she knew exactly what she had done to him, Katie flipped her broom around and sped down the pitch.

An hour later, when little Ginny Weasley caught the Snitch, Oliver felt like he had just won the House Cup all over again. He rushed onto the pitch with the rest of the Gryffindors, roaring with victory. Katie was tangled up with the other Chasers screaming loudly. The House Cup was being thrust at her and she looked at it bewilderedly, then pushed it into Ron Weasley's arms. The ginger boy beamed proudly and hoisted it into the air.

Oliver couldn't have been prouder.

Then, Katie was hovering just above him, her face split into a wide grin, her chest heaving. Oliver's eyes traveled from that glorious grin to her breasts framed in her knit jumper to her tight fitting trousers. His throat went dry, his groin tightened. And the next thing he knew they were kissing. Katie had one hand gripping the broom, the other clutching his collar and her tongue sliding between his lips. A new round of cheers erupted around them.

Katie pulled away, her face flushed, her lips swollen. Oliver reached up to cup her face in his big, calloused hands. They were smiling at each other with their mouths and their eyes, lost to the crowd around them. Oliver kissed her again, thinking he didn't want this moment to end.

"Hey, Bell!"

"Bell! Come up for air already!"

Katie pulled away, smiling sheepishly. "Meet me in the common room," she said as she flew away.

oOo

Katie showered and dressed in record time, but the team wanted to make their grand entrance together. Katie had insisted that she would just slip upstairs and let them have their glory. Ginny and Demelza had different ideas as they forestalled her exit. So, Katie found herself primping longer than she would prefer. Mascara, lip gloss, shiny hair.

What was the point? Oliver was just going to snog it all off anyway!

Finally, the Beaters were showered and ready. Katie was the first to the door of the changing room, only to be pulled back by a laughing Ginny and Demelza.

"My mum told me it never serves a girl to appear too eager," Demelza advised.

"Keep him waiting, Katie," Ginny chimed in.

"He has waited more than three years for me, I think that is long enough!"

Her fellow Chasers were so stunned by Katie's proclamation that they let go and Katie scrambled out the door. The rest of the team followed nosily and slowly. Somehow, Katie managed to wait for them at the portrait hole, but once on the other side she paused only a moment for the congratulations before making a beeline for Oliver.

Cormac McClaggen—the stupid sod—tried to intercept Katie with one of his groping hugs, but Oliver pushed his aside with a growl.

"Hands off my girl, berk."

Katie giggled. Why did she like it so much when he was behaving all macho? Then she was wrapped in his strong arms and all other thoughts fled from her mind. She had never been this demonstrative with Hal, but she was so happy to see Oliver after all this time that she just didn't care. She kissed him soundly to the wolf whistles of the common room.

They accepted butterbeers and answered questions, but kept their eyes locked until Harry climbed through portrait hole. Katie watched with a smirk as he embraced Ginny Weasley then thoroughly kissed her. With the Gryffindors distracted by yet another romance, Katie felt Oliver's arms circle around her shoulders.

"Let's get out of here," he said against her ear. "And bring your broom."

It was a moment to be swathed in cloaks and slip out of the portrait hole in Ginny and Harry's wake. Oliver shouldered Katie's broom, his other hand clasping hers. They walked in companionable silence until they were on the grounds, stealing looks and sharing smiles.

"What a great day for Quidditch," Oliver said, standing in the bracing breeze and taking a deep breath. "You were fantastic, by the way."

"I was dragging by the end of the game," Katie admitted.

"I could tell," he said. "But we can work on your stamina."

"Oh?" Katie replied suggestively, eyebrows lifted. "How do you plan to do that?"

"Wind sprints, of course," he replied in perfect seriousness.

"What?"

"We have to get you back in fighting form," he added and that's when she saw the little grin that indicated that he was winding her up.

Katie grabbed fistfuls of his cloak and turned him to her for a kiss. His free hand traveled into her hair. She was surprised at the gentleness of his touch as he played with her hair, causing goose pimples to dance across her body.

"What have you planned for us?" Katie asked breathlessly, leaning into him.

"You once offered to take me for a fly," he replied, "I thought I'd take you up on the offer."

Katie looked up at Oliver, her brow creased. Did he mean…

"When?"

"On your fifteenth birthday, don't you remember?"

"I do, I am just surprised that you do."

"I remember everything about that night," Oliver said honestly. He caressed her cheek and added. "After we go for a fly, then I want to snog you senseless."

Katie felt the heat of a blush radiate from her face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he said with a little smile, looking at her from the corner of his eye. "I've waited a long time for that, too."

"Since my fifteenth birthday?"

"Yes, actually," he concurred with a sigh. "Longer than appropriate, really."

Katie brought herself up against Oliver, pressing her breasts into his chest. His eyes darkened as he looked down at her, his lips twitching slightly. She could read the desire in his eyes. Not just desire, but longing. He was telling the truth when he said he'd waited a long time for her.

She smiled at him. "Let's fly."

Oliver unshouldered her broom and mounted, holding one arm out to beckon Katie over. Katie threw one leg over the shaft and nestled into the hollow of Oliver's body. He gripped the broom with both hands, securely wrapping his arms around her in the process, and kicked off.

They shot straight up quickly, the wind ruffling their cloaks. Katie pushed her hair away from her eyes and glanced at Oliver whose face was very near her own. She kissed his cheek and he smiled at her. He banked and took them over the Quidditch pitch at break neck speed.

Katie loved the feel of the air rushing at her, the slight feel of being out control. Or maybe it was the feeling of controlling something that was wild. She didn't know, but it didn't matter. Flying was something she loved. She'd been on an airplane, but it wasn't the same as being on a broomstick. The only thing she could compare it to was horseback riding, the thing she missed most about the Muggle world.

As Oliver flew them over the Forbidden Forest, a bubble of laughter gurgled out of Katie. She couldn't help it, flying like this always made her laugh. Soon, she could feel the rumble in Oliver's chest against her back and knew that he was laughing too.

She nestled in closer to him. She reveled in the feel of his warmth surrounding her, his powerful thighs cupping hers, his strong arms around her. Desire swamped her senses, making her skin tingle and her thighs clench around the shaft of the broom more tightly. Oh, why had she insisted they go fly first?

oOo

Katie sat facing Oliver on the bench in the changing rooms below the Quidditch pitch. He was straddling the bench and her legs were draped over his thighs. His big hands were under her jumper, spanning her waist and drawing circles with his thumb across her midriff. Katie was positively humming with desire.

It had been nothing for Oliver to break into the change rooms. Katie suspected that he must have done so many times in his time at Hogwarts. If it were any other boy, she would have assumed that he had used that skill to entice other young ladies into a private snog, but if she knew Oliver, he broke in here on purely Quidditch-related reasons.

Oliver leaned in to kiss Katie's neck, her hands sliding over his shoulders and down his back. She bunched his t-shirt in her hands, dragging it up. Oliver broke away so she could pull it up and off. When he would have returned to kissing her neck, she stayed him with her hands on his bare shoulders. The muscles twitched and bunched under her hands.

"You've seen me shirtless before," he reminded her breathlessly.

Oh, indeed she had. Many of her earliest adolescent fantasies involved the sight of Oliver's bare chest as he stripped off after practice. She used to watch him from the corner of her eye, fascinated and afraid of being caught staring at the same time. He was much more fit now than he was even at eighteen. The muscles in his arms and shoulders were well defined, his chest firm, his belly taught. His arms and neck were brown from hours spent on the pitch, but the skin protected by his shirt was white. Dark, curly hair bunched in the center his chest and narrowed into his waist band, leading her eyes down to where she couldn't miss the bulge in his pants.

Katie gave him a saucy look. "Seeing is not the same as touching."

An inarticulate noise came out of Oliver as Katie's hands spread across his chest and shoulders. She pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck as her fingers skimmed down the tender flesh of his flanks. She hooked her fingers in the waist band of his low slung denims, tickling him. His hands grasped her shoulders firmly.

"Off," he growled, tugging on her jumper.

With a laugh, Katie pulled it off herself. She was wearing a very pretty, little demi-bra. It was lavender and lacy and practically see-through and her nipples were jutting against the thin fabric. Her laughter died away, however, as she watched Oliver's expression. He swallowed thickly, his eyes a caress as they skimmed over the tops of her pale breasts.

"That's-that's pretty," he muttered, his hand hovering just above the rounded mound of her breast.

"I'll tell you a secret," she whispered. "I picked it out this morning hoping you would see it."

"I wasn't talking about the bra," Oliver replied gruffly.

"Oh," she responded, at a loss for anything more to say. His plain-spoken words struck her in the chest because they were _honest_ , and meant more than romance. She could feel herself melting a little more as she watched the way his eyes roamed over her body in tender appreciation and, yes, lust. Her skin was tingling with the need to be touched.

Finally, one big, calloused hand settled around Katie's rib cage, Oliver's thumb so tantalizingly close to her breast. She caught her breath, anticipation flying across her nerves. Oliver's eyes slid shut as he pressed kisses along the top of her breasts. Katie's breath left her in one, long sigh, and she ran her hands over his shoulders and down his back, bringing him closer.

It was unspoken between them, but they both knew these were stolen moments. This was time out of time when they could explore each other and be carefree. But when it was over, Oliver would return to a house of mourning and Katie would go back to being a student. So nothing serious would be spoken of. No 'I love yous,' no lovemaking. They would save that for another time. Yet, Katie could feel his love in the kisses he rained down on her body and she hoped he could feel the love she was pouring into her touches.

oOo

They'd made it as far as the Black Lake before falling into some more snogging. It was dark across the grounds of Hogwarts, and they were using their wands to light their way to the castle. But now, Oliver had Katie wrapped up in his cloak under the willow tree, kissing her madly.

Katie pushed away with a little laugh. "It is way past my curfew."

"Yeah," Oliver grunted and went in for another kiss.

She giggled as she dodged his lips and they landed on her ear instead. "I'm serious! It'll be detention for me if we're caught."

He put his poor aim to good use and nibbled her earlobe a bit. She hummed and tilted her head to the side for better access. Good, at least she forgot about that curfew business.

Katie pushed him away a little more forcefully. "Really, Oliver, I have to get up to the castle."

Bloody girls had too much restraint!

Oliver pulled her in close again. "I don't care about your curfew, lass, I've waited too long for this."

"Spoken like a man who _does not_ have to sit detention with Filch."

"Ah, well, you have me there," he muttered, gathering her against him and hoisting her up so he wouldn't have to stoop so much to kiss her. Katie was short, she was, but light as a feather.

"Put. Me. Down."

"I promise to butter up McGonagall for you. She always like me."

"It is not McGongall that concerns me."

But he was kissing her neck and she seemed rather distracted.

"Oliver!" she screeched, pulling his hair.

Bloody resolve! Giving in, he set her down, but he let her body slide slowly along his in doing so. This was torture, all of this touching and kissing, but nice torture. He would be thinking of this time with Katie often in the coming weeks, he was sure.

Taking her hand, Oliver led her without incident all the way to the portrait hole. The Fat Lady was a bit annoyed at being awoken, which amused Oliver. Some things never changed.

"Terribly late, isn't it, children?" she huffed.

"I'm no child," Oliver replied cheekily.

The Fat Lady eyed him appreciatively. "Oliver Wood? Hm, no, you most certainly are not. Grew into a great hunk of man, I see."

Katie giggled and Oliver blushed.

"I was sorry to hear about your brothers," the portrait said sympathetically.

And just like that, reality came crashing down on Oliver. He muttered something to the Fat Lady before turning away, his face pinched tight. Katie was grasping his hand in both of hers, leaning into him sympathetically.

Oliver turned back to her and pushed her hair behind her ear with his free hand. "I don't know when we'll see each other again."

"Probably not until after the Leaving Ceremony, I would imagine," Katie replied quietly.

Oliver wrapped his arms around Katie and heard a long, wistful sigh. From the Fat Lady. He glowered at her.

"What?" she demanded, pushing out her bosom. "It's romantic."

"A little privacy would be nice," Oliver said, aware that Katie was giggling in his arms, making her breasts jiggle against his chest.

"Well, then you shouldn't be kissing right in front of me, should you?"

"That's a salient point," Katie agreed.

"And I say it's five points from Gryffindor for each of you," announced a stern, Scottish voice. "Say 'good night,' Mr. Wood, and kiss the girl already."

Katie was giggling madly even as Oliver kissed her good night.

oOo

_Dear Katie,_

_I loved every moment of our day together, but I must admit it had made it hard to return to my life…_

"Term is nearly over, Mum, I want to finish out my first year."

Oliver came down the back stairs the next morning to hear Alex's strident voice.

"No," Mum replied in that voice that brooked no more arguments.

"Why not?" Alex demanded shrilly.

"I want you at home," Mum said stubbornly. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"That's not fair!" Alex raged.

"Alex," Dad reprimanded sternly, "do not take that tone with your mother. Now apologize."

Alex eyed both of his parents mutinously, but mumbled, "Sorry."

Then he ran out the back door, letting it slam behind him.


	10. Turning Points

_Dear Katie,_

_I don't know what I am doing…_

The first place Oliver looked for Alex was the old barn. He had learned over the last weeks that Alex had spent a lot of time playing in the loft growing up. His little brother, however, was nowhere to be seen so Oliver headed for the broom shed where he found Alex's broom missing. Taking out his own, Oliver kicked off, flying low and slow over the grounds of Red's Wood. Finally, he made the gradual climb up Little Hill where he found his brother sitting on the cliff.

"Leave me alone," Alex yelled when he saw Oliver land. His eyes were red and teary.

"Oi, you're in _my_ thinking spot," Oliver retorted, calling on his memory of Fergus' best the-sun-don't-shine-out-of-your-arse tone.

Alex pulled a face, then resolutely turned away from Oliver.

Undeterred, Oliver dropped down next to his brother on the cliff. He said nothing, letting Alex's anger fester between them. This was a trick Fergus used to play with Oliver: Piss him off, then let him stew until it all bubbled over. Sometimes, Oliver would try to knock Fergus' block off (he'd finally managed it when he turned 16 and was as big as his brother at last), but it always seemed to work. In the end, Oliver would get whatever he had to say off his chest and be better for it.

Alex, as it turned out, was not immune to this treatment either. His anger was very near the surface, rolling off him in waves. He repeatedly shot dirty looks in Oliver's direction. Oliver's seeming indifference just increased the tension until, finally, Alex launched himself at his older brother.

There was some flailing arms and wild punches, but Oliver simply pushed his brother off, pinning him to the ground with a hand on his chest. Alex had tears running down his face and he was clutching at Oliver's wrist. Kneeling over his prostrate brother, Oliver wondered at the role reversal. Not so many years ago, it was him that was pinned to the ground by an older brother.

"Are you done yet?" Oliver asked evenly.

"What do you care?" Alex spit back.

"I'm your brother, of course I care."

"You didn't seem to notice for the last twelve years."

That stung. Mostly because it was true.

"I'm sorry for that," Oliver said. "I'm rubbish at this big brother stuff, but I want to try."

"Like yesterday?" Alex raged. "You left me with _her_ and went off to Hogwarts. You don't belong at Hogwarts, I do!"

There was no mistaking the "her" in Alex's statement. Alex's frustration with Mum's overbearing coddling had been growing steadily. Oliver wondered if his brother was as scared as he was annoyed. Mum was not acting herself and if Oliver found it off-putting, he could only imagine what Alex must think.

"Alex, I was going to see Katie," Oliver sputtered, blushing as he remembered the change rooms. "We…it wasn't the type of thing a kid brother gets to tag along for."

"Who said I wanted to tag along? I could have gone to visit my friends who I haven't seen in a month while you were snogging your girlfriend."

"That's a fair point," Oliver conceded. "I hadn't thought of that. If it helps, Dougal and Fergus used to ditch me for birds all the time."

"It doesn't."

Oliver sighed. "If I let you up, are you going to take a swing at me again?"

Alex crossed his arms over his chest. "Maybe."

"Ugh!" Oliver bellowed. "Having a little brother is a pain in the arse."

"Just leave me alone," Alex muttered.

_I don't know what to do about Alex. When he finally returned home, he locked himself in his room and wouldn't come out. Mum was beside herself, but Dad wouldn't let her go through Alex's wards. I keep wracking my brains, trying to think of what Dougal would do, but I am no good at the older brother stuff._

_Your Oliver_

oOo

_Dear Oliver,_

_I am writing this from detention…_

Bloody NEWTs! It should be illegal to be heading for the library when the sun was shining on the grounds like that, extra sentencing to be meeting _Cho Chang_ to study for Arithmancy. That girl only ever wanted to talk about books or boys. She was a bloody Seeker, one would think they could have a decent conversation about Quidditch.

The least Katie could do was take the long way around to the library, passing the tall west-facing windows that let sunlight pour through like molten gold, warming the corridor, lifting her spirits. From there she'd be able to see the Black Lake and the willow tree under which Oliver had kissed her, enjoy the day vicariously through the first and second years frolicking on the lake's shores.

Katie heaved a sigh. Did she really need a good score in Arithmancy? Yes, she supposed she did.

Rounding the corner into the sunlit corridor, Katie heard a grating voice filling the air. Merlin's pants, Pansy Parkinson. The only girl on the planet more annoying than Cho Chang, who was at least smart. Parkinson was looming over Dennis Creevey and a young Slytherin girl who were seated together in one of the window ledges, books and photographs spread across their laps. Dennis had a mutinous expression on his sweet, young face. The girl looked torn between wanting to die and wanting to scream.

"Astoria," Pansy shrieked, "you are a disgrace to your family. Wait until I tell your sister that you are associating with Mudbloods!"

Dennis shot up, scattering books and photos on the flagstone. He was barely taller than Pansy, who was not at all intimidated. The girl, Astoria, stooped down to scoop up the fallen things.

"Sit down, Mudblood," sneered Pansy's companion, jabbing the smaller boy with his wand.

The whole scene seemed to take on a surreal quality, as if it were all happening in slow motion. Ice water was running through Katie's veins as she recognized the white blonde head of the taller, older boy. Draco Malfoy. Foul words falling from his lips. Wand pointed at an innocent boy.

"Oi! Malfoy!" Katie yelled. She dropped her rucksack and rushed between the younger pair and Malfoy. She glared at his pointed face, watching his eyes take on a nervous sheen. "Leave. Him. Alone."

"Great," huffed Parkinson. "Another filthy Mudblood."

"Shut it, Pansy," said Astoria quietly, but angrily.

"Yeah," Malfoy chimed in; he had backed behind Parkinson now. Beads of sweat had collected on his forehead as he eyed Katie. "What do we care who Baby Greengrass plays with? It's her reputation, not ours."

"She is a disgrace to Slytherin House," sneered Parkinson. "She shames her sister and by extension me. Come on, Astoria, and I won't tell your parents this time."

Katie was too intent on staring down the squirming Malfoy to care what was going on with Dennis and Astoria. This was the first time she had seen him since she'd returned to Hogwarts, since her conversation with Harry in the change rooms. This was the monster of her dreams? This cowering, sniveling, pathetic stooge? He couldn't even stand up to Parkinson.

"What's wrong with you?" Parkinson demanded, looking at Malfoy. "You are acting as if you are scared of this filthy Mudblood."

"Don't be stupid, Pansy," he replied, all the polish gone from his drawl. "She is just a…a Mudblood."

The blood in Katie's veins surged hot and insistent. She would not be dismissed by this prat as chattel. She was a person, a witch. He couldn't take that from her.

"This one isn't even smart enough to keep her hands off a cursed necklace," Parkinson sneered.

Katie's fist connected with Parkinson's eye with a sickening thud. Astoria screamed as Parkinson fell to the ground, wailing as if she were dying. Power surged through Katie. She was a person. She could be hurt, she would be missed. She was loved. These people did not get to diminish that with their words and schemes.

"Holy cow, Katie!" Dennis gasped.

Malfoy was pointing his wand at Katie in a trembling hand. His face was contorted in panic. "You-you shouldn't have done that."

Katie's wand was out, steady and dangerous. "You shouldn't have Imperiused me!"

"That wasn't me," he whimpered.

Katie shot a jinx at him and it bounced off a shimmering shield. "Then why are you so scared, Malfoy? I'm just a Mudblood, remember?"

"Look, let me get Pansy…"

"I am not your victim!" Katie raged, advancing on him with silent hexes and jinxes. "You leave Dennis alone. You leave this girl alone! You are a bullying, murderous coward."

"It wasn't me!" he squealed.

Katie rushed the taller boy, forgetting about the wand in her hand. They tussled as he tried to push her off. Katie almost laughed when she realized that this supposedly fearsome, pureblood wizard didn't know how to fight back Muggle style. He put his hand on her face, trying to push her away again. Katie grabbed his arm, and he howled as if in pain.

"Is that where it is?" Katie breathed through clenched teeth, squeezing his arm cruelly. "Is this your Dark Mark? Show me. You're so proud, so far above me, show it. Prove your superiority."

Malfoy pushed her off this time and they both fell on their arses with the force.

"Stupid Mudblood!" he yelled, cradling his arm.

"Eat slugs!" Katie screamed, pointing her wand at the blond boy.

Much to her satisfaction, his face twisted into a grimace. With a burp, he wretched up slugs.

"You've deserved that for four years, bloody git."

"Miss Bell."

Katie turned resolutely to Professor McGonagall. Astoria was standing beside the taller woman, her face worried but defiant. Dennis was holding Pansy's wand along with his own, staring daggers at Astoria. McGonagall, for her part, seemed sympathetic. And maybe a little proud?

"I'm afraid it will be detention for use of magic in the hallways," the old professor said. "And ten points from Gryffindor."

"That's it?" Pansy demanded shrilly.

"Well, Miss Parkinson," McGonagall said, her posture becoming even more rigid and imposing. "I am afraid I have never been allowed to hand out detentions for character flaws such as obnoxiousness, so you may run along. And take Malfoy to the infirmary. _That_ is repulsive."

McGonagall walked away. Parkinson snatched her wand from Dennis before gathering up Malfoy. She shot Katie a dirty look as they went.

"You shouldn't have done that," Dennis hissed at Astoria when they were gone.

Astoria's face went haughty in her annoyance. She took her book and smashed it on top of Dennis's head. "Don't be so dense, you ridiculous Gryffindor."

"You got Katie in trouble," he accused.

"I got Katie help," the girl shot back indignantly.

Katie laughed. "Dennis, is this your girlfriend?"

"No!" they both denied.

"Dennis likes boys. And I…" Astoria scuffed her shoe on the flagstone. "I like jerks."

"Well, thank you for getting McGonagall," Katie said, pushing a shaky and aching hand through her hair. "It was the right thing to do. I-I don't know what came over me."

"You—that—Bloody wicked!" Dennis enthused.

Katie took a deep breath and changed the subject: "So, what _are_ you two doing together?"

Now that the adrenaline was waning, Katie was beginning to tremble. Her hand more than ached, it hurt.

"We're friends," Dennis answered, with a shrug. "Astoria helped fish me out of the Black Lake when I fell out of the boat."

"You ruined my favorite pair of shoes," Astoria complained, sticking her nose in the air.

"They were _green_ , Astoria," Dennis retorted with a roll of the eyes. "What if you'd been put in Ravenclaw?"

"But I wasn't."

"You should have been. At least the gits in Ravenclaw are not slimy on top of being a jerk."

"Okay, okay," Katie giggled, raising her hands in surrender, then winced. "I get it. You're friends."

_You know how the incident with the necklace has haunted me, but now I feel like…like I took a little something back from Malfoy. I don't know how to put it into words. This time, I got to fight back, which is something he took away from me when he Imperiused me. It still doesn't get back those six months I lost, but maybe I have to learn to live with that. At least now, I know that I am more than his victim._

_About Alex… I think you are too hard on yourself, love. Your brothers were your idols. In your mind, they could do no wrong and had all the answers. But they were human, just like you. Dougal was probably making it up as he went along. I know Fergus was, I remember him well enough to say that with some certainty. Alex is grieving, just like you. You two will figure it out together if you just trust yourself._

_Your Katie_

oOo

"Katie is one smart girl," Catriona said as she handed the letter back to Oliver.

Oliver was on the floor with Campbell as he was scooting across the floor in some sort of inchworm fashion. He was determined, but he looked odd doing it.

"Catriona, I think there is something wrong with your kid," Oliver said conversationally. "That cannot be normal."

He got whacked over the head with a pillow for that one.

"I suppose I deserved that."

"Damn right you did, you prat," Catriona grumbled.

"So," Oliver said pointedly, "what am I going to do about Alex?"

Alex was still in the midst of an icy standoff with the rest of the family. Oliver had tried to approach him several times without success. Mum was worrying herself into a frazzle over him, but Dad was taking a hands-off approach as long as Alex was respectful. Oliver didn't know which parent annoyed him more. Mum needed to back off, but he wished Dad would intervene.

"You give him space," Catriona answered.

Oliver grunted his disagreement at that.

"Ollie, you can't fix things for Alex, just like Dougal never fixed things for you."

Oliver opened his mouth to argue, but was forestalled by Catriona.

"Listen," she said, "Katie is right. Dougal didn't know what he was doing, but he knew _you_ and he had faith that you could work it out with a little push. You need to give Alex time and you need to get to know him. And you need to let yourself adjust to being the big brother."

Tears came to her eyes, but she continued. "You are being so strong for all of us and I know you are overwhelmed, but Dougal would be so proud of you. Fergus, too."

Oliver turned his back on Catriona, tears in his eyes. He couldn't express how honored her words made him feel. He felt Catriona's arms come around his shoulders from behind. She leaned her cheek against his back and they wept together until Campbell's cries interrupted them.

The adults looked at the red-faced baby with his comical scowl and began laughing. Catriona scooped the baby up, nuzzling his neck with her nose. He fisted his hands in her hair, crying indignantly.

"Do you know," Catriona said, laughing through her tears, "Madame Rosemerta gave me the butterbeer recipe at the funeral?"

Oliver stared at Catriona for a moment, stricken, before the absurdity of it hit him and he could laugh with her. He tried to imagine what Dougal would have said to that. He had tried to wheedle it out of the barmaid several times without success. _She always told me she'd share it over my dead body, the hag!_

"Is crying all you people ever do?" Alex demanded, appearing in the threshold with a glower.

"I was telling Catriona about those pitiful punches you threw at me last week," Oliver jeered with a smirk. A little brotherly derision went a long way, he knew. "We laughed until we cried."

Alex's glare deepened. "Sod off."

"Maybe," Oliver called, "you'd like me to show you how to throw a real punch?"

Alex stilled, but he wouldn't look at Oliver. "Yeah?"

"As long as you don't tell Mum."

oOo

_Dear Oliver,_

_The strangest thing happened today…_

"Professor," Katie said after class, "you wanted to see me?"

McGonagall looked up from her papers, her face impassive. "Aye, Miss Bell, please have a seat."

Katie took a seat in the first row. To her surprise, McGonagall came around and sat beside her at the table. The old professor conjured a tea set, enchanting the tea pot to pour two cups.

"Would you like cream or sugar?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes, both please."

Before long, Katie was sipping a hot cuppa with a tin of biscuits sitting in front of her. She couldn't help but wonder what all of this was about. In all of her time at Hogwarts, Katie had never taken tea with her Head of House. It was all rather amusing and incredible, really.

"Miss Bell," McGonagall began, "I wanted to speak to you about the other day with Malfoy."

Katie shifted in her seat. "I've already served my detention, Professor."

"Yes, of course, I am not concerned about that," McGonagall dismissed. "I understand that you made some accusations regarding Mr. Malfoy's part in your incident."

"Yes," Katie said slowly, "I reckon I did."

"Did you remember something about the incident?"

"No," Katie admitted.

"I see," McGonagall said evenly. "You've been speaking to Potter."

Katie remained stubbornly silent. She wasn't sure where this interview was going, but she wouldn't implicate Harry in any way. McGonagall, however, seemed less interested in how Katie had come to decide that Malfoy was her attacker.

"Did you seek Malfoy out, my dear?" she asked.

Katie looked up in surprise. "No! I-I just came upon him picking on Dennis and the Greengrass girl. He called Dennis a 'Mudblood.'"

"Yes, Miss Greengrass reported as much." The Professor paused, seemingly taking Katie's measure. She pursed her lips, then spoke, "I am afraid we have not taken into account your mental health after all this, Miss Bell."

"What?" Katie demanded incredulously. "I am not mad."

"No, of course not," McGonagall agreed easily. She patted Katie's fisted hand where it lay on the table. "But perhaps you are feeling violated?"

Katie crossed her arms, tears coming to her eyes. "He took away my will. He didn't ask. He didn't even tell me. He just stole from me."

"And you have been feeling vulnerable?"

Katie wiped her tears, ignoring McGonagall's handkerchief. "I lost six months of my life, I could have died, and he goes on with life as usual. King of Slytherin, shagging that slag Parkinson, playing at Death Eater. He's such a sniveling piece of—"

"Yes, true," McGonagall interrupted, her lips twitching. "I am glad to see you still retain your spirit, Miss Bell, you are going to need it before all of this is over."

"All of what?" Katie asked, leaning towards her Head of House, remembering that she had always felt affectionately for the old woman.

"The war, of course. Things are going to get worse before they get better. Such is the way in times like these." McGonagall sighed heavily, looking older than her years and more tired than Katie had ever seen her. "Keep your spirit strong, my dear."

Then McGonagall's lips twitched again and she asked, "Did it feel good? Taking back what he stole?"

Katie flashed a wide, devilish grin. "I feel like a new woman."

McGonagall chuckled outright then. "Good to hear."

oOo

_Dear Oliver,_

_Oh, God, something terrible has happened…_

Late June

Hogwarts

"Katie. Katie, wake up."

Katie was roused from her bed by Leanne pulling back her curtains. "What is it?"

"I don't know," Leanne said. "Hurry!"

Katie snatched her wand off the bedside table and rushed after the other seventh year girls into the common room. The seventh year boys were also roused from bed, as well as Dean and Seamus and a smattering of other, younger students. Notably, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Neville were missing. A stone dropped into Katie's stomach. She didn't like this.

"What's going on?" Katie demanded.

"What the—" McLaggen muttered as he tried to push the portrait open. "She won't open up!"

"Get out of the way, Cormac," Hal huffed. He had long been of the opinion that his yearmate was an idiot. But it became rather obvious, as Hal pushed on the portrait, that it would not open.

"Are we sealed in?" Lavender Brown asked. She and Parvati Patil had just come from their stairwell, followed by a number of younger girls.

"Where's Ginny?" Demelza asked, but she was ignored.

"Why would we be sealed in?" Seamus asked. It was obvious from his posture that he was on edge.

There was silence as all of Gryffindor stared at the portrait hole. Katie hugged herself, that uneasy feeling growing. Nothing like this had happened before, not even when Sirius Black was on the loose. Whatever would cause McGonagall to lock the Gryffindors in the tower must be grave and Katie didn't like to think about what that meant.

"Let's everyone be ready," Katie announced. "We don't know what is going on, but we should be prepared for anything. Everybody, shoes and wands please. And youngers, stay in your dorms until told otherwise."

There was a general grumble of dissent, but the younger girls were herded back to their dorms by Lavender and Parvati. The boys, on the other hand, were standing around uselessly. Katie rolled her eyes. Typical boys. Even the eleven-year-old Gryffindor male wanted to meet the dragon head on.

"Jack, Ritchie," Katie barked. "Take the younger boys upstairs, will you?"

Katie approached Dean and Seamus. "Where are the rest of your dormmates?"

The boys regarded Katie steadily.

"Out in whatever this is, I'm sure," Seamus replied darkly.

"Katie!" Leanne screamed. She was standing at the window that faced the Astronomy Tower. Her face was stricken and Katie felt panic try to claw its way up from her gut, but she pushed it down.

She rushed to her friend's side, the two sixth year boys right behind her. What Katie saw out the window made the bottom drop out of her stomach. She threw her arms around the sobbing Leanne, if only to keep herself upright. She tried to remember ever feeling so scared.

"It's the Dark Mark," Seamus reported grimly to the common room at large.

_Dumbledore is dead. It was Snape…_


	11. Remembrances

July 31

Wizarding London

"You never told me you could cook," Katie said as she collapsed onto the sofa next to Oliver.

"Hm?" He wrapped his arms around her and gathered her near. His face dropped low, close to her neck so that she could feel his breath tickling her skin, but he refrained from kissing her.

"Thanks for dinner, Oliver," said Angelina as she walked to her room. "Think I'll turn in now. Quidditch training starts up soon and I need to get used to the early to bed, early to rise routine."

Alicia stretched. "Think I'll turn in, too."

Alicia disappeared into the room she shared with Katie. That was the result of flipping a Galleon when Katie moved into the two-bedroom flat after Dumbledore's funeral a few weeks ago. The three of them had talked about getting a bigger flat when the lease on this one expired and maybe one further from Diagon Alley than this one. Oliver had expressed his worry over the three of them living so near the heart of Wizarding London, but respected her enough to not to bring it up again when she made it known that it was her choice, not his.

"Your flatmates have an admirable sense of discretion," Oliver murmured, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin at the base of her neck.

With a swish of her wand, Katie set a sound dampening charm and dimmed the lamps. Oliver pushed up her tank top, his hand spreading across her bare back. Katie loved the feel of his hands on her body. His skin was rough from gripping a broomstick, and his hands strong from catching and throwing Quaffles, but his touch was always soft and gentle. It gave her goose pimples when his fingers trailed across her skin like they were now.

Gripping his face between her hands, Katie brought Oliver's mouth to hers. Her tongue slipped between his lips and he groaned against her mouth. She felt herself being lowered into the cushions of the couch, Oliver half-covering her. He was careful not to put all his weight on her, but Katie didn't mind the weight of his body on hers. It felt intimate and good.

Oliver pulled up her top, his hand finding her breast. Katie pressed herself more firmly into his palm with a little sigh, clutching at his bicep lest he get any ideas about stopping what he was doing. Those long, nimble fingers uncovered her, then he teased her fleetingly.

"Not fair!" she accused with a giggle.

He looked at her from under his lashes, flashing her a toothy grin. Then Oliver bent his head and his mouth was on her. Katie sucked in a whistling breath, arching her back. He was using his tongue against her and she thought she was in heaven. She ran her fingers through his hair, holding his head to her chest.

Katie wished he would come fully atop of her. She wanted to feel his narrow hips between her thighs. She crooked one leg, causing her skirt to bunch up around her hips. Oliver's hand came to rest at her hip, his fingers flexing in the wrinkles of her skirt. Katie shifted against his hold, trying to encourage him.

" _Oliver_ ," she moaned, grabbing his hand.

Oliver stopped what he was doing, leaning his head against her chest and breathing hard. His hand flexed against her hip, his fingers digging into her skin through the fabric. He was mumbling something that sounded like "sorry" and "carried away." Then he was pulling away, tugging her into a sitting position. Katie watched, half-amused and half-befuddled, as Oliver righted her clothes, all the while staring at her collar bone.

"Oliver?" she whispered once he was finished.

His dark eyes flickered to her face and away. "Not like this, lass. Not on a sofa when your flatmates could walk in on us on their way to the loo."

"Are we…" Katie cocked her head to one side and regarded Oliver for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was pitched low, "Are we talking about shagging?"

"No," he said stubbornly. He did look at her now, his expression serious. He reached out as if to touch her, but then laid his arm across the back of the sofa. "We are talking about making love."

Gingerly, she touched his bicep and it twitched beneath her fingers. "There's a lot we can do without making love."

"There's more to making love than penetration," he replied matter-of-factly.

This was new territory for Katie. Prior to shagging Hal, all their conversations about the matter went something like: _No, not yet_ or _I'm not ready_ until one day they just gave in. On top of that, Katie had only seen Oliver face to face a half dozen times since she woke up. It seemed like this conversation should be happening too fast, but it didn't feel like that at all. It felt inevitable.

Hesitantly, Oliver fingered Katie's hair. "Look," he admitted, "I've shagged a few witches, had a fun romp once and straight fucked another, but I've never made love to a girl."

"Me neither," she said, then bit her lip when she realized what she'd said. "Er, I mean I've never made love, not that I never made love to a girl. Although I haven't—"

Oliver chuckled softly, his hand moving to cup her cheek. "I knew what you meant, Katie."

"Oh. Good…" He was leaning in to kiss her, but Katie stopped him with a hand on his chest. "But I'm not a virgin."

"I didn't expect you to be, lass."

_He didn't?_

"Oh," she muttered, brow furrowed. Was she disappointed? He'd just admitted to several lovers, plus he'd shown her nothing but respect. She knew he didn't think she was a slag, so why did she suddenly feel like one?

"How long were you with Sparrow? About two years?" he replied, then sneered. "Sparrow isn't the type of bloke who would wait around if a girl wasn't putting out."

Katie blinked at him. She had never thought of Hal like that and a part of her felt like she should defend her ex-boyfriend. On the other hand, she wondered if there was a kernel of truth to what Oliver had to say. When she thought back on it, what she remembered was Hal pouting when she stopped them from going too far.

Katie looked at her hands folded in her lap. "You aren't disappointed?"

"Merlin's beard, my mum and Catriona would have my guts for garters if I held you to a different standard than I had for myself."

Despite herself, Katie snorted with laughter, but she still couldn't quite look at Oliver.

"What is this?" he asked softly, he tilted her chin up so that he could look into her eyes. "I'll be honest with you, Katie, I'm not quite sure what I should say here. If something's bothering you, love, you are going to have to tell me."

"I'm being stupid!" She tossed her hands in the air in frustration. "It's not like Hal coerced me, I was quite willing to part with my virginity at the time. Now I feel like a proper slag because I should have waited for…for the right man."

His brow was knit together and he said slowly, "You aren't a slag. I would never think that."

"I know," Katie huffed. "I'm being stupid, that's all."

Oliver didn't say anything for a long time. He was watching her face, his thumb rubbing circles into her cheek. Finally, he said, "When I decided that I was going to wait for you to grow up, I knew there would be others. Maybe boyfriends or dates or snogging partners…maybe even lovers. I can't say I was wild about the notion, but it was the price I had to pay to let you grow up before…"

He shrugged, as if that were an adequate end to his sentence.

"Besides," Oliver mumbled and Katie had to lean in to hear him, "I'll be the first to make love to you, so none of the rest matters, does it?"

Katie reached up and kissed him hard and long on the mouth. Oliver's arms came around her, pulling her near. When she pulled away, Katie leaned her head against his chest, listening to the faint thud of his heart. She wondered about this boy-this _man_ -she had known so long and yet she was still surprised by his depths.

"You didn't answer my question earlier," Katie said, lifting her head off his chest to look at him, grinning a little.

"Hm?" Oliver's eyes were half-mast and he looked contentedly sleepy.

"How do you know how to cook?"

He chuckled. "Oh. That."

"Yes. That. Do you have a secret domestic side I should know about?"

Oliver pulled her against his body again. "Let's not get carried away, lass. I know how to make five meals, that hardly makes me a chef."

"It's five more than I can do."

He shrugged. "My mum taught me how to follow a recipe when I was little, that's how she taught us potions. It's as simple as that."

"By making spaghetti?"'

"Well, no. She would teach us to make biscuits by following the recipe, then we moved onto bannocks, and eventually…"

Katie sat up, a wide grin on her face. "Wait just a sec, Wood. _You_ can bake biscuits?"

Oliver blushed. "Well, I haven't made biscuits since I was fourteen."

Katie giggled. "I think I've hit the boyfriend lottery!"

"I didn't say it was a hobby," he protested, tickling her ribs lazily. "I just said that I knew how."

She swatted his hand away. "I think you are trying to distract me."

Oliver grabbed her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap. "If I wanted you distracted, Bell, you would be distracted."

That sounded like a challenge, if Katie ever heard one. She shifted around so that she was straddling him. She tossed back her hair, shaking her head slightly, knowing that the movement would have the added benefit of making her breasts jiggle. She smirked when she saw Oliver's eyes travel over her body. Distracted, indeed! She pressed a teasing kiss into the corner of his mouth. He moved to capture her lips for a fuller kiss, but Katie moved just out of reach.

"So," she said coyly, "about those biscuits…"

oOo

It was late when Oliver finally came home from Katie's flat. Somehow she had managed to talk him into returning the next day to "prove" he could actually make biscuits. And she'd asked him to bring Alex along, which surprised Oliver, but he was pleased about this turn of events all in all.

The house was dark as Oliver approached, lit wand in hand. He was careful not to make a sound as he crept through the back door, sure everybody was abed. He was surprised, then, to find Catriona sitting at the table in the semi-darkness, parchment and quill in front of her.

"Hello," he said quietly, lighting the other lamps with a swish of his wand. "What are you doing up? Don't you have the big wedding tomorrow?"

Catriona sighed heavily and her face sank into her hand. "I was just writing to Bill and Fleur. I-I don't think I can go."

Oliver pulled out the chair beside his sister-in-law's. "How come?"

"I'm just not ready," she admitted, blowing her hair out of her face. "I mean, Dougal should be there with me, shouldn't he? He should have helped Charlie throw Bill a big stag party, he should be giving Bill last-minute advice that was probably rubbish anyways, he should have been my date and we should have danced together at his best mate's wedding."

Oliver took Catriona's hand, squeezing it lightly. He didn't know what to say, but then he was learning that sometimes there was nothing to say.

"Anyways," she went on, wiping her nose, "I just don't think I can do it…and I don't want to ruin Bill's day. He's really in love with that girl, you know? I even think Fleur knows how lucky she is to have a man like Bill love her."

"What are you going to write to Bill?" Oliver asked quietly.

Catriona stared at the parchment for a moment before saying, "I think I'll just tell him that Campbell is sick. I don't want to make Bill sad on his wedding day."

"You want me to warm up some milk for you?"

"No, thank you," she replied, inking her quill. "Go dream about your lass, I'll be fine here for a few more minutes."

Oliver stood and made for the stairs. He considered that he'd always seen Catriona as an older sister. Sometimes it felt as though she'd always been there, though he'd only known her since he was eleven. When his brothers had been too rough or callous about his feelings, Oliver could always count on Catriona to make it all better. But sometime in the last weeks, their relationship had changed. They were confidants now, equals maybe. She looked to him, Oliver, for support just as much as he looked to her. That was humbling.

Stopping on the bottom step, Oliver turned back to the table. Quickly, before he thought better of it, he kissed her forehead. He heard a whoosh of breath leave her, but didn't turn back. Instead he hurried up the stairs before they both started crying.

oOo

"Let me get this straight," Roberta said fiercely from her spot by the sink; she was brandishing a wooden spoon like a wand. "You, Oliver Alastor Wood, intend to take my baby into Wizarding London—which is crawling with Death Eaters-to meet this lass you've been seeing. A lass, I might add, that I have not met yet."

"Mum," Oliver replied with an impudent grin, "are you more upset about the Death Eaters or that you haven't met Katie yet?"

It was probably a good thing that she didn't have a wand in hand as she pointed the spoon at Oliver accusingly, for he probably would be hexed. "You—Do not get cheeky with me, young man."

"Mum, don't listen to him," Alex begged. "I'll be perfectly safe. I'll be with Oliver."

Mum looked at Alex, her eyes softening. "Okay…"

Alex launched himself at her, wrapping his arms about her tightly. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

"But," she pronounced, pinning Oliver with a stern glare, "I expect to meet this lass, and soon!"

Oliver laughed. "All right, all right, I get it."

He looked at Alex who was sitting down with a plate of sausages, eggs and bannocks. Oliver had already told him their plans for the day, sure that the prospect of baking with his brother's girlfriend was not Alex's idea of a good time. To Oliver's surprise, this news had not dampened Alex's enthusiasm; the lad was quite keen to go.

"Do you remember the last time we made biscuits together?" Oliver asked.

Alex glanced at his big brother warily before shoving a buttered bannock in his mouth. "No."

"Sure, you were four," Oliver said. "Fergus and I were home for Christmas Hols and Mum was sick. We were in charge of you, remember?"

"Nope."

"Alex," Mum reprimanded, setting a tea tray down on the table, "don't speak with your mouth full, you're spraying crumbs all over my table."

She walked over to Oliver and brushed his fringe off his forehead like she did when he was a boy. "I remember," she said with a sad smile. "You lads brought me biscuits and tea in bed and said it was all Alex's doing. It was also the day that Alex learned the word 'snog.'"

Oliver laughed at the memory. "At least it wasn't 'shag.'"

Mum gave Oliver a stern look, but ruined it by laughing. Just in the last week, Mum's spirits seemed to have returned a bit. She was sad-Oliver could see the grief in her eyes still-but she could speak of Dougal and Fergus now. And she wasn't quite so manic about watching over her remaining sons. This, Oliver realized, was a sign that it was time for him to move back to Puddlemere and reopen his flat.

After breakfast, Oliver and Alex stepped out of the Floo into the Leaky Caldron. If he were honest with himself, Oliver had reservations about bringing Alex into Wizarding London. Sure, they were Purebloods and ostensibly safe from the Death Eaters, but he knew all too well that there were no guarantees in these turbulent times. But Katie had challenged him to prove his biscuit baking skills and she had asked him to bring Alex along. Oliver had been unable to say 'no.'

"Hannah?" Alex called across the nearly empty pub after he brushed the soot off his robes.

A pretty girl with blonde curls came over with a big smile. "Alex, you are the last person I expected to see."

"I'm spending the day with my big brother," Alex answered, motioning to Oliver. "Do you know Oliver Wood? He was the Gryffindor Quidditch captain."

The girl looked up at Oliver. "A bit. I remember the year that you won the House Cup. Of course, Gryffindor's won the last three Cups, haven't they?"

"I can only take credit for one," Oliver demurred, offering his hand.

"This is Hannah Abbott," Alex said, nearly hopping from one foot to another. "She's Ernie's girlfriend."

Hannah turned a pleasant pink from her forehead to her bosom exposed by her serving wench costume. "I am not."

Alex gave her a devilish grin, "Well, not because Ernie doesn't want it."

"Ernie and I," she said, folding her hands primly in front of her, "are just friends."

"So, you're a Hufflepuff in Ernie's year?" Oliver asked, trying to save the poor girl from any more embarrassment.

"Yes."

"She left part way through first term," Alex said solemnly. "Her mum was killed by Death Eaters."

Silence rained down on the three. Oliver could only stare aghast at his little brother's bluntness. It was on the tip of his tongue to scold Alex or apologize to Hannah-he wasn't sure which, maybe both—when Hannah spoke.

"I heard about your brothers," she said simply, her voice like a lullaby. She brushed her fingers through Alex's fringe. "It must have been very hard, to lose both of them in the same night. I'm sorry for your loss."

Alex was looking at his trainers, but he shrugged. "They were a lot older than me. I didn't know them all that well."

"Still," Hannah said.

Silence hung in the air. Oliver admired the girl's gentleness. Her words, so simple and so few, seemed to say more than all the words Oliver had tried to say to Alex in these last months. Oliver breathed through his nose for a moment, hoping he wouldn't start crying. It didn't matter that the Leaky Caldron was nearly empty, he didn't want to stand in a public place and cry like a baby.

"Come on," Oliver said, blinking rapidly and tugging on Alex's elbow.

Suddenly, Alex threw his arms around Hannah, burying his face in her bosom. She stood frozen for a moment, as Oliver stared on in slack-jawed disbelief. Finally, Hannah wrapped her arms around the boy, stroking his hair lightly.

"Will you be back for next school year?" Alex asked into her chest.

A disbelieving smile played at her lips. "Yes, I'll be back. One more year to go."

Alex pulled away, sniffling a little bit. "See you then."

Hannah nodded and waved the brothers out the door. Once they were in the alley, the absurdity of the last two minutes hit Oliver fully. He started laughing so hard that he was bent double, tears in his eyes. Alex stood with his arms crossed petulantly.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

Oliver wiped his eyes. "You stuck your whole head in her boobs, mate."

Alex went red all over. "I did not."

"Aye, you did. Either you are the slickest twelve-year-old I've ever met or the most oblivious."

Alex had his wand out, red sparks erupting from the tip. "Wanker," he growled, pushing past Oliver to tap the bricks and gain entrance to Diagon Alley.

Oliver withdrew his wand as he stepped through onto the familiar street. It was so different from the place he had visited since childhood. There was no hustle and bustle of friendly witches and wizards about their business. The well-kept, colorful storefronts were dull and dingy, most of them shuttered. Even the heavy, gray clouds seemed to crowd in on the two brothers.

Alex forgot his beef with Oliver and sidled in closer to him. Oliver wrapped a protective arm around his little brother's shoulders and set off in the direction of Katie's flat.

oOo

"Blimey! You're short!" Alex exclaimed when the door was opened by a pretty, blond girl.

She laughed. "Well, he inherited the Wood charm, I see."

Oliver elbowed Alex roughly before kissing the girl. Alex had seen Katie's picture in Oliver's room before, he'd known her the moment she opened the door, but the kiss confirmed it. And _that_ was exactly as gross as he thought it would be.

"Oi! You're going to get a crick in your neck!" Alex whinged.

Oliver pulled away, took a deep breath, hitched his thumb in Alex's direction and announced, "The pain in the arse is my brother, Alex." He gave Alex a dark look. "This is Katie."

She looked like a Katie, Alex decided. All kind of sweet and chipper with a 1000-wand smile. She was at least an inch shorter than him and he thought that must be the best thing about her. Although, his brother had glanced at her boobs five times already since they walked in the door, so Alex guessed that Oliver did not agree with him on Katie's best attribute.

"Do you boys want something to eat before we get started?" Katie asked, leading the way to the small kitchen. "I have cereal."

"No," Oliver started, "Mum made breakfast—"

"Sure!" Alex interjected. He'd had three helpings at home, but cereal was like eating sweets. It was rarely offered and never passed up. He grinned stupidly when he saw that Katie had the sugary kind with marshmallows. She'd just risen about three pegs in his estimation.

While Alex wolfed down several bowls full of cereal, he watched Katie and Oliver in the kitchen. There was a lot of touching and smiling. It reminded him of Catriona and Dougal or Mum and Dad when they were in a good mood (or Dad drank too much fire whiskey). Katie transfigured a cake tin into a baking sheet, which was pretty neat. Oliver had brought the ingredients, shrunk down to fit in his pocket.

"So," Alex said between bites, "Oliver says you can't cook."

Oliver scowled at him, but Alex ignored that.

Katie smiled. "That is true, I'm afraid."

"Didn't your mum teach you?" Alex asked.

"My mum worked," Katie replied. "By the time she got home, she was too tired to do a proper meal. Usually she picked something up from the store and popped it into the microwave."

"What's a microwave?" Oliver asked, avoiding looking Katie in the eye.

"It's…kind of like an oven, only it's more for reheating food than cooking."

"Well," Alex interjected, "Mum can teach you to cook so that Ollie won't starve."

Oliver was scowling again, but Katie giggled.

"I'll remember that," she said.

"Are you ready?" Oliver asked, his voice hard. "Or were you planning to eat Katie out of house and home?"

Katie was scolding Oliver for being mean to his baby brother, but Alex just slurped the last of the milk out of his bowl loudly. Oliver's jaw clenched. Alex grinned.

"I'm finished," he announced.

Alex helped Oliver make the batter, although Oliver could use his wand now and that took some of the fun out of it. Mum used her wand to do all her serious baking, for biscuits and shortbreads that would be given as gifts, but she always did the chocolate chip biscuits the Muggle way, usually with Alex's help. When she did her Christmas baking, she always made the chocolate chip biscuits last, just for her lads.

"Haven't you ever made biscuits before?" Alex asked Katie, who was sitting on the opposite counter, watching the proceedings.

"A few times with my grandmum, but she was very old and died when I was little," Katie replied.

"Was she old like Dumbledore?"

She giggled. "Well, by Muggle standards, I suppose she was."

"What about your other grandparents?" Oliver asked, glancing at her over his shoulder.

Katie frowned. "Well, they were all quite old really. They all passed away before I left for Hogwarts."

"Granddad Wood died before I was born," Alex said.

"He fell off his broom," Oliver said solemnly. "Granny went to live with her sister on the Isle of Skye after."

"They are mental," Alex put in, earning a cuff upside the head from Oliver. "They have twenty cats."

"They have two Kneazles," Oliver replied, then said to Katie, "It must be rather peaceful to be an only child."

Alex looked wide eyed at Katie. "Are you an only child?"

"Yes," Katie said with a nod. "My parents were older when they married and only had lonely, old me."

"Do you want to wait until you're old until you get married?"

"Alex," Oliver warned.

"No," Katie answered, she was looking at her trainers. "I always fancied that I'd marry young. I want to have children while I'm young."

Oliver, Alex noted, was watching the spoon mix the batter rather intently.

"How many children do you want?" Alex asked.

"Oh," she said, making flustered motions with her hands. "I don't know. More than one. How's the batter coming?"

"I always felt like an only child," Alex said; now it was his turn to look at his trainers.

Oliver frowned at Alex, but it was Katie who spoke:

"I can understand that," she said kindly, sliding off the counter. "All your brothers were so much older and off to Hogwarts while you were growing up. Was it lonely?"

Alex stole a glance at Oliver. He'd upset his brother, he could tell. Oliver was really sensitive these days about Dougal and Fergus. Oliver wanted Alex to remember like he did, but Alex just didn't. He couldn't. They were never around.

Katie looked like she wanted to give Alex a hug, but Alex had had about as much as he could stand of sympathy. Let her give it to Oliver, he needed it more.

"May I have some more cereal, please?" Alex asked loudly before anyone else could say more.

"Of course," Katie replied.

Sitting up to the bar, Alex ate the cereal. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Katie stealing bites of batter as Oliver was measuring out spoonfuls on the baking sheet. He was telling her that story from this morning. The one about Oliver, Fergus and Alex making biscuits together for Mum. Oliver wanted Alex to remember because then it would be one more memory they shared of their brothers, but Alex didn't. How could he? He'd only been four at the time.

oOo

Alex was in the loo, thank Merlin. Oliver was taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around Katie and kiss her. He'd tried to remember how much he hated it when Dougal and Catriona would snog in front of him and keep the kissing to a minimum out of courtesy to Alex. But the little git was making it hard to be considerate when all Oliver wanted to do was shake him senseless.

"I'm sorry about my brother," he said to Katie, backing her against the counter.

"Don't be," she said, dragging one hand down his chest. "He's charming.'

"If by 'charming' you mean pain in the arse…"

"Don't be so hard on him," she scolded. There was a thoughtful look on her face. "I think he's angry at you."

Oliver sighed. "He's angry at everyone."

She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

"Give him time, love," she whispered.

oOo

"Oliver, Oliver, wake up."

Oliver was fast asleep in his bed at Red's Wood, but he came instantly awake at the shaking of his shoulder. Fear gripped him. Something was wrong. People only woke you in the middle of the night when something was wrong. His heart was beating hard and fast in his chest. He was having trouble catching his breath as he grabbed his wand off the bedside table.

"I remember."

"What?" Oliver asked, shaking his head to rid it of sleep. He realized, finally, that it was Alex standing at the bed.

"I remember," Alex said, his voice broke. "I said I didn't but I do."

Oliver sat up. "What are you talking about?"

"The biscuits!" Alex clutched Oliver's pajama shirt tightly. "I do remember. Fergus wanted to go up to the village to see some girl, but you wouldn't let him. You said you would tell Mum and Fergus called you a tattletale."

Oliver wrapped his hands around his brother's thin arms gingerly. The boy was trembling. Oliver's heartbeat was decreasing, but he was still anxious. He wondered if he should call Mum or maybe Catriona to help Alex. Oliver wasn't sure what his little brother needed, but Mum would know.

"That's right," Oliver found himself saying into the darkness.

"And the next day, Dougal came home," Alex continued. "Just Dougal, I don't know where Catriona was. Dougal said they were the best biscuits he'd ever had. We all went for a fly and Dougal let me ride on his broom with him. Remember?"

"I do," Oliver whispered.

"Then we came home and played Exploding Snap. Dougal taught me a trick with his wand to cheat without getting caught. We beat you and Fergus every time."

Oliver curled his lip in distaste. "I remember that too."

"I still use Dougal's trick," Alex admitted. "I beat the pants off Ernie every time and he can't figure out why. But I only use it on Ernie because Fergus always said—"

"We can't let the Macmillan cousins win," Oliver finished.

Alex started crying, his hand going tight in the fabric of Oliver's shirt. "I do remember," he said again. "I said I didn't, but I do. I do remember our brothers."

Oliver pulled Alex into his arms. He was sobbing now, his whole body shaking with it. Tears came to Oliver's eyes too. He couldn't put words to what had just happened, but he knew it was good. The dam had broken for Alex and maybe things would be better for his brother now. Oliver rubbed Alex's back, holding him fiercely with his other arm.

When the tears had passed, the brothers lay in Oliver's bed together, the older one on his back, the younger curled up nearby. Oliver wondered if he should say something to his brother, but decided against it. He'd said plenty in the last months and none of it had made a difference; now was the time to be quiet and let time heal the hurt. He reached out in the dark and squeezed his little brother's hand.

oOo

August 2

Red's Wood

Oliver was a creature of habit, so despite the lack of sleep, he was still up for his morning fly and Campbell duty. Recently, Mum had started rising early again. She was often in the kitchen by the time he returned from his fly and had breakfast on by the time Oliver had Campbell fed and Dad returned from his own morning fly.

"I reckon the Hogwarts owl should be arriving with Alex's book list any day now," Mum commented, bouncing the baby on her hip as her menfolk ate.

There was resignation in Mum's voice, as if she understood that life marched on whether she was ready for it to do so or not. Oliver thought maybe this was a good time to broach the subject of his returning to his own flat. He'd gotten an owl from Puddlemere stating that training would resume in a week.

Before Oliver could speak, an owl flew through the window, dropping the Daily Prophet onto a platter of sausages. Dad muttered under his breath as he shooed the blighted bird away. For as long as Oliver could remember, the Prophet owls had disturbed breakfast in just the same way every morning. Mum was smirking at Dad's irritation, surreptitiously handing the owl a treat before it departed.

"What's this?" Dad demanded, his face pale, as he scanned the front page of the paper.

Mum edged closer to Dad, her face worried. "What's wrong, Cal?"

"Says here that Scrimgeour resigned." Dad shook his head. "I knew Rufus at school-he was two years ahead of me-and there is no way he would resign of his own free will. Stubborn as an old boot, he is. He would have to be forced out."

An ominous silence fell amongst Oliver and his parents. They all knew what such an implication meant: Death Eaters in the Ministry. Oliver's heart rate kicked up wondering if Percy was safe. He stood abruptly from the table and strode to the door.

"Where are you going?" Mum demanded, her voice panicked.

"To see Percy," Oliver answered, hand on the doorknob. "To see if…"

_He's alive._

"To find out what he knows about Scrimgeour," Oliver finished.

Mum looked ready to protest, but Dad put a hand on her wrist to stop her. "Be safe," he said simply.


	12. The News Is Bad

August 2

Red's Wood

"Percy all right, then, dear?"

Oliver looked at his mum as he came through the door into the kitchen. It had been a long day in London trying to track down Percy. He followed that up with a visit to Fred and George. Oliver didn't like the tales any of them had to tell.

Percy, thankfully, had not been at the Ministry when Scrimgeour "stepped down." However, he'd already met with the new Minister of Magic, Pius Thicknesse. Percy had been blunt about his thoughts on the man. According the Oliver's best mate, the new Minister was either a Death Eater or being Imperiused by one.

After that, Oliver went to visit the twins in their shop on Diagon Alley. They were looking a little worse for wear, what with George's missing ear and Fred having taken the Cruciatus Curse five times the previous evening. Evidently, Bill Weasley's wedding had ended with a surprise visit from "Ministry officials" who bore a remarkable resemblance to Death Eaters. The twins were keeping mum about something and Oliver was pretty sure it had to do with Harry Potter, so he let it go.

Oliver did let it be known that he was ready to do whatever it took to fight the Death Eaters. The twins played dumb, but they all knew that Fred and George were in the Order of the Phoenix.

"Yeah, Mum," Oliver answered, closing the door carefully. "He wasn't at the Ministry when it all went down."

She nodded, offering Oliver a cup of tea. "Did he wizen up and go to his brother's wedding?"

"Uh, he didn't say."

"Poor Molly," Mum murmured as she prepared her own cup. "How many chances does that boy think he'll get? All of his brothers are up to their necks in the war, Arthur and Molly too. Everybody knows it, even if nobody says it aloud. It's only a matter of time…"

"Mum," Oliver warned, "I don't want to talk about Percy. He'll find his own way back."

Shrewd blue eyes surveyed Oliver. He did his best not to squirm, but he hated when she looked at him like that. Like she knew exactly what he was thinking. Oliver had asked his dad once if Mum was a Legilimens, but Dad had simply chuckled and claimed that all mothers were. It was a different brand of magic that had nothing to do with wands and spells.

"What are you and Percy planning?" she asked, setting her cup down, one hand on her hip.

Oliver blinked at her in shock. "Nothing," he said truthfully.

"You are not joining that blasted Order."

Oliver's brows lowered over his eyes stubbornly. "You can't tell me what I can and cannot do anymore, Mum."

"You don't deny it?"

"Things are taking a turn for the worse," Oliver explained, also setting aside his mug of tea. "You-Know-Who is in control of the Ministry now and the Order is going to need all the wands they can get."

"And what happens to this family when another son is killed?"

"Mum—"

"Alex needs his big brother. Campbell needs his godfather."

"Mum—"

"No. You can't do this. I can't survive the loss of another son, I can't." She was gripping Oliver's shirtfront now, tears streaming down her face. "You can't do this to me."

"I am doing nothing to you," Oliver said as patiently as he could, he tried to dislodge her fingers, but she had a death grip on him. "But I can't sit idly by either."

"Let others fight. The Woods have done their part, we've given two sons to the cause."

"Sitting on the sidelines does not make me safe, Mum," Oliver argued.

"It improves your chances!"

That manic glint was back in her eye. Oliver tried to shrink away from her. This Mum scared him a bit. She was clingy and unpredictable, given to high emotion. He didn't know what she would do next and that was so far from his ordered, mannerly Mum as to be different person. Oliver found that treating her with kindness and respect when she was like this seemed to be the best way to handle her, but he would rather put her squarely in Dad's care and be shot of the whole thing.

"Bertie, what's going on in here?"

Much to Oliver's relief, Dad stood wearily in the threshold, paper tucked under his arm.

"He wants to join the Order," Mum cried. She looked to her husband, but did not release her hold on Oliver. "Talk some sense into him, Cal. He won't listen to me."

Dad turned to Oliver, alarm on his face. "Is this true, son?"

A swish of Dad's wand set an avoidance spell around the room. His face was tired, his eyes sad. To Oliver's shock, he realized that his dad was about to take Mum's side. Cal Wood was always one to let his sons make their own decisions, especially once they came of age. It was part of raising boys into men, that's what he always said.

"Oliver," Dad started, gripping the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

"Dad," Oliver countered, his stubborn streak rearing its head, "I am a grown man, I don't have to run my decisions by you."

"I know," Dad allowed with a sigh. "Just hear me out."

It was easy to dismiss Mum as hysterical. Even when she was acting more herself, all of Oliver's brothers had learned to ignore her stern, but reasoned declarations. They'd just heard them too often and were too stubborn to give up whatever it was they were pursuing. But if any of them had learned to ignore their father, they had not shared that trick with Oliver. As far as he knew, when Cal Wood choose to speak, his sons listened.

"There are plenty of ways to contribute to this war without being on the front line," Dad reasoned. "And plenty of time to do it. I take it that Death Eaters have taken the Ministry?"

"Aye," Oliver answered tersely.

Dad sat at the table, blowing out a long sigh. "He never got that far the last time and it was bad enough then."

"That's why I can't sit this out any longer, Dad."

"Aye, that's one reason and it's a good one," Dad agreed, looking Oliver in the eye. "You also want to avenge your brothers, I would guess. Maybe prove your manhood? Prove you are a Gryffindor, the same as Dougal and Fergus?"

Oliver's mouth flattened into a thin line. There was more truth in what his dad said than he cared to admit or even think about.

Mum pulled away, a deep frown on her face. "Stupid Gryffindors," she spat.

"Don't go down that road, Bertie," Dad warned. "You married one, you raised a house full and you are the most Gryffindor Hufflepuff I've ever met."

She scowled at him.

"Listen, Oliver," Dad said patiently, ignoring his wife. "I understand your desire to fight. I struggled with it the last time around. To be honest there's a part of me that struggles with it now."

"Cal!" Mum turned to him, straight and stiff as a poker, her mouth pinched. "You old fool!"

Dad shrugged. "More than likely."

Oliver moved to the table, but didn't sit. "If you want to fight, than why are trying to talk me out of this?"

"There are many ways to fight, Oliver. And there are plenty of types of courage. Go back to Puddlemere and be the best Keeper you can be. In these times, people are going to want distraction from the fear and Quidditch is going to be important to them"

"Bah!" Oliver scoffed. "Because that is all I am, is it? Quidditch-obsessed Oliver Wood. Too interested in a damn Quaffle to care that a homicidal maniac has taken over Wizarding Britain."

"I didn't mean that," Dad said, his tone quiet, but his gaze steady. "I know that you are more than a Keeper. For one, you are a family man. It takes a special kind of courage to be the kind of man your family needs you to be, especially when you want to follow a different path."

Oliver looked away. He didn't want to hear the rest of Dad's argument. This is where Dad got around to Mum's point. That this family couldn't afford to lose another son. Oliver knew it, but he also knew that You-Know-Who wasn't going to stop until every wizard in Britain was either dead or wished he was.

"This family needs a man who will be there to help Catriona raise that baby, to steer Alex through adolescence and carry us through when we stumble," Dad said.

"You are that man," Oliver argued.

Dad shook his head sadly. "I wish I was." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are the man your brother choose to raise Campbell, not me."

"Dougal would have no doubt that you would step up in his absence."

"The fact is, Oliver, you have shown yourself to be the man this family needs in the last weeks and even I was surprised how easily you've taken to the job."

Oliver collapsed into the chair, head in hands. No small amount of pride swelled in Oliver's chest at his father's words. Oliver had been trying so hard in the last weeks to be whatever anybody needed him to be, though he mucked it up more often than not. To have his dad recognize his efforts meant more than all the times Dad had praised Oliver's achievements on the pitch, the congratulations on the Quidditch Cup and well-dones on making Puddlemere.

"It hasn't been easy," Oliver demurred.

"I know it hasn't." Dad reached across the table and patted Oliver's arm. "I'm proud of you."

Oliver wiped his eye with the pad of his thumb. "Thank you."

Dad cleared his throat. "Well, son, just…think on it, will you? Before you make any decisions regarding the war."

"That's it!" Mum exploded, moving across the kitchen in a swirl of skirts and manic rage. "That's all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to do, Bertie?" Dad responded reasonably. "Forbid him?"

"Aye! That's exactly what I want."

"He's much too old for that, love."

Mum rounded on Oliver, her eyes blazed, her nostrils flared. "Promise me, Oliver!"

Oliver drew back, but she latched onto his arm. "Mum…"

"Promise me you won't join the Order. Say it. Promise me."

Dad moved around the table to pry her away, but she pushed his hands away while still keeping a grip on Oliver. She was stooped before her son, staring him wildly in the eye. She was near hysterical, more manic than Oliver had seen her at any time since that first night. He could see the truth in her words from earlier in her eyes: She couldn't survive the loss of another son.

Closing his eyes tightly, Oliver said, "I promise, Mum."

oOo

Two Weeks Later

Wizarding London

Alicia shrieked indignantly, causing her flatmates to rush into the sitting room. They were met with the sight of the normally calm Alicia Spinnet pacing back and forth shaking the newspaper, her face nearly purple with rage. It was almost comical. Except that nothing seemed particularly comical these days.

"What is it now?" Angelina asked apprehensively.

"Look at this!" Alicia thrust the Daily Prophet into Angelina's hands forcefully.

Katie watched as Angelina scanned through the article, a stricken look on her face. Katie's heart was in her throat. First was the news that the Ministry had been infiltrated. Well, to be honest, that was not how the paper had reported it. That was how the Quibbler-of all things-put it. Then was the second blow of Harry Potter going missing. Lately, every time the Prophet showed up, Katie didn't know if she hoped that Harry had been found or not.

"So?" Katie said.

"The Ministry has convened a Muggleborn Registration Commission," Angelina said, her fine eyebrows furrowed.

"Did you see who is heading it?" Alicia fumed.

Angelina looked up, her mouth pursed as if she'd tasted something sour. "Umbridge."

Katie gasped as if slapped. That awful, toad woman? Umbridge may be no Death Eater, yet she was a malevolent force all on her own. Not to mention the perfect bureaucrat. Whatever this Commission had in store for Muggleborns, You-Know-Who could not have picked a better lackey to carry out his plans and cover them in a sugary coat of legitimacy.

"It says that new research…" Angelina gasped. "They are claiming that Muggleborns have stolen magic!"

"What?" Katie exploded, snatching the paper from Angelina. She scanned the words quickly, outrage and fury clouding her eyes.

… _magic_ _can only be passed from person to person when_ _Wizards_ _reproduce…so-called Muggleborn is likely to have obtained magical power by theft or force…root out such usurpers of magical power…_

Tears trembled in Katie's eyes. She felt blindly behind her for the sofa and sank into it for fear that her legs would give out. She had thought that finding out that six months of her life had been stolen from her was the saddest moment of her life, but it didn't compare with the emotion that gripped Katie now. Tears burned in her throat, a vice squeezed her lungs.

"I've just been branded a criminal."

oOo

Oliver saw Percy the moment he made the landing. The dark haired wizard pushed off the wall, noting his mate's grim expression as he hurried to the door and undid all the wards. Percy nearly pushed Oliver into the flat and began recasting the wards before the ginger himself was through the door. Including several, strong privacy charms.

"Are you being chased, mate?" Oliver asked, wishing there was humor in his voice.

"Aren't we all?" Percy responded. "Oliver, I am glad—"

"Catriona got her letter from that blasted Commission today," Oliver said without ceremony.

"Shit!" Percy slammed his briefcase onto the table in a rare display of emotion.

That hardly covered it. It had been a blow to the family nearly as bad as losing Dougal and Fergus in the first place. There were already rumors of Muggleborns going on the run. No one knew what this Commission had in store, but no one was under the allusion that Delores Umbridge was handing out puppies and lollypops.

Catriona, to her credit, had kept her calm, but the fear had been plain in her very white face. She'd squeezed Campbell so hard he'd started fussing. It was no mystery what she'd been thinking. Every adult in the room had had the same thought: Campbell was likely to be an orphan if they didn't act, and fast.

And in the back of Oliver's mind, he knew that Katie would be next.

"That was quick," Percy muttered, standing very straight and staring at the wall. "I only just saw her folder in Umbridge's office."

"You knew about this?" Oliver demanded. He wasn't really angry with Percy. Everybody was playing a dangerous game these days, not sure how to act, what to do. And Percy was right in the thick of it. Would leaving the Ministry put his family in danger? Would staying require him to sell his soul?

Percy looked at Oliver. "I think I have an answer to many of our problems."

"I'm listening," Oliver said, edging closer.

"I-ah-have been doing a bit of espionage," Percy admitted, pushing his glasses up. "I used my clearance to gather up all the information I could on the Muggleborn Registration Commission and took it to Bill."

Oliver stared at his mate, stunned. The risk that Percy took in committing such an act could not be emphasized enough. Oliver didn't need to be an Order member to know that punishment, if Percy had been caught, would be death and an unmarked grave.

"Wow! Percy, I—" Oliver dragged a hand down his face, he was at a loss for words. "Good on you, mate."

Percy nodded, the infamous Weasley blush creeping up his neck. "Bill took the information to the Order, but he was not the only one to put plans into motion regarding the intel. My sister-in-law, Fleur, and her little friend are planning a network to smuggle Muggleborns out of England and into Europe."

Oliver whistled. "Bill's got himself a real Gryffindor, doesn't he?"

Percy smiled. "With the brains of a Ravenclaw."

"Is this for real?"

"Fleur and her friend _-Audrey-_ left for the Continent yesterday morning to set up the check points on that end. It will begin in France with Fleur's parents and end in Romania with Charlie."

"And you are going to be the man on the inside?" Oliver asked, folding his arms over his chest. He was proud of his friend, but scared for him as well.

Percy nodded. "We need some more witches and wizards to help move the Muggleborns to safe houses and then onto the coast to Port Key to France."

Years stretched between the two wizards. They must have met a dozen times before they ever even boarded the Hogwarts Express; tagging along after their older brothers in Diagon Alley, waving them goodbye from the Platform of 9 ¾. The two had always been different. Percy was serious and burning to prove himself. Oliver was energetic and only ever needed to live up to his own expectations, which were high. Yet from the first, they were friends. When they finally boarded the train to Hogwarts, they sat in the same compartment, they were sorted into the same house, they shared the same dorm. Many years of understanding and friendship lay between them. So when Percy looked Oliver straight in the eye in that moment, the look that passed between them was all the question and answer needed. Of course Oliver was in.

Oliver put his hands on his hips, his voice gruff when he said, "Catriona is the first one out. Katie, too."

"I'll make it happen as soon as Fleur and Audrey return." Percy pushed his glasses up. "We'll need to recruit a few more people. They must be trustworthy and discreet."

"Angelina and Alicia," Oliver said immediately. "Two of the bravest witches you'll ever meet and they can keep a secret. So what are you calling this?"

"Fleur calls it the Order of Mercy," Percy answered, his voice reverent.

A chill ran down Oliver's spine. The enormity of what they were planning settled onto his shoulders. This would be dangerous. Maybe not as dangerous as the Order of the Phoenix, but dangerous enough. A pang of guilt struck Oliver in knowing that he was probably breaking the spirit of his promise to his mother, but she had only asked him not to join the Order of the Phoenix. And the importance of this work was humbling. Oliver knew, if they were successful, that he would never do anything as important for the rest of his life.

"There's one more thing," Percy said, clearing his throat. "Snape had been installed as Headmaster of Hogwarts. It'll be in the paper soon."

"Shit!" Oliver said, slamming one fist into the other hand.

"Quite," Percy answered dryly. He put a hand on Oliver's shoulder soothingly, his voice losing any humor when he added, "Ginny will be at Hogwarts too; attendance is compulsory.

"McGonagall and Sprout will keep an eye out for them," Oliver asserted, clenching his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The newspaper quote is from Chapter 11 of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows.


	13. To Make You Feel My Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The world and characters (most of them) belong to JK Rowling. The story title belongs to the Cure. (Go check out the song if you haven't heard it already.) The chapter title belongs to Bob Dylan, although there are many wonderful versions of this song.

Katie was fighting a losing battle. She knew she was, but she was too stubborn to give in just yet.

"This is my war," Katie insisted, swiping angrily at tears as she stood before the hearth in her flat. "More so than yours."

"How can you say that?" Angelina demanded, she too had tears on her cheeks. "My mum's a Muggleborn and I am already making plans for her to follow you into hiding."

"Gran and Gramps Spinnet are both Muggleborns," Alicia put in, wiping her own eyes. "I am not even sure how that effects my dad's status yet."

Katie clenched her fists uselessly to her sides. "You two are going to stay here and protect the ones that you love, but you expect me to run and hide."

"What can you do from Azkaban, Katie?" Angelina replied.

"Or living off berries and bark hiding in the countryside somewhere?" Alicia added.

Since she woke from her coma, Katie had been telling herself that she would fight You-Know-Who and creeps like Malfoy at every turn. She'd been practicing her defensive spells, researching ways to resist the Imperius curse, training for stamina long after Quidditch ended. Now, she was being told to let others do the fighting for her. She felt as helpless as she did when she first woke up.

It felt like time was being stolen from her again. Katie was fresh from Hogwarts; she should be starting a career-something more than working part time for Fred and George. She should be setting up a flat with her girlfriends. She should be given time to just be in love with Oliver. The war was taking all of that from her and she was powerless to stop it. Katie felt like a victim all over again.

The only thing left to her was to fight the inevitable as long as she could. Katie knew she didn't have any choice in the matter. She was a fighter, not a martyr, and only martyrs would remain in England.

There was a knock on the door. Alicia crossed the room to admit Oliver. He was wearing track pants and an old Gryffindor t-shirt. His hands were shoved in his pants pockets, his broad shoulders slumped. Yet, Oliver looked anything but relaxed. He looked as if he were carrying the weight of the world on those strong shoulders and it had become too heavy.

No small part of Katie wanted to go and comfort him, offer to help bear that burden. But she wouldn't, not now. Oliver was here to take Alicia and Angelina's side, not Katie's. It wasn't fair of her to think it, but at the moment, Oliver was the enemy.

Katie and Oliver's eyes locked from across the room. He looked as if he wanted to rush to her and put his arms around her. Katie crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest and glared. He frowned at her before turning away, showing that Oliver was more perceptive than he was given credit. He took up residence at the kitchen bar.

"She is fighting us," Alicia said, motioning to Katie.

"Can you please talk some sense into your girlfriend, Wood," Angelina huffed, crossing her arms, one hand traveling to her face, pinching her nose.

"What makes you think I will listen to anything Oliver has to say?" Katie demanded, narrowing her eyes at Angelina.

"Why are you being so stubborn, Bell?" Angelina yelled back, fisted hands at her sides. "Do you want to be Dementor fodder?"

"You are _telling_ me to run and hide, to save my skin," Katie thundered back, forcing herself into the taller witch's space.

"You want me to ask?"

"Angelina," Alicia warned.

"Fine, I'll ask," Angelina sneered. "Katie would you do me a favor and leave the country, seek refuge in Europe and please not risk being murdered or worse. Thank you, it's much appreciated."

A part of Katie wanted to hit Angelina in her smug face. She had never fought with her friends like this before. There had been petty, teenage squabbles aplenty, but no fights. This all felt so wrong, but, of course, this was no teenage tiff. They were adults now, weren't they? And this was a very adult thing: life or death.

Alicia was about to wade into the fray when Oliver spoke. His voice was soft, but the low timbre carried over the witches' more strident tones. They all looked to him. Katie, for one, was disarmed.

"Katie," he said, head bowed, "I need to ask something of you. It's-It's a lot."

When he looked up, his brown eyes were shiny. He rubbed the back of his neck and continued:

"Catriona and the baby leave for Europe at dawn. Catriona, she's a strong woman and a skilled witch, but she's still vulnerable…after Dougal's death. This whole business with the Muggleborn Registration Commission, well, it's really scared her. I am afraid to send her away without anyone to help her. I'd go, but that would put the rest of my family at risk. It's such a fine line…"

He dragged a large hand down his face. "Can you take care of Catriona and the baby for me? Please?"

Katie stared at Oliver for a long time, her emotions a jumbled knot. Why weren't her feelings for Oliver ever simple? On one hand, he was asking her, not telling her, to go to Europe and be safe. Even more, he was giving her a job and one that was important to him. He had provided her away to leave without feeling weak. A part of Katie loved him for that. Another part was so damned angry at him because he was manipulating her into doing what he wanted at the same time.

Finally, Katie wrapped her arms around herself and took a deep, bracing breath. "Yes, I can do that for you."

Angelina and Alicia were visibly relieved. Now that they were no longer fighting, Katie could see the fear and worry in her friends' faces. Katie sighed: she would have to apologize for making this so hard on them. They loved her, after all-they wouldn't have fought her so hard if they didn't.

The look on Oliver's face was heartbreaking. Oliver, she realized, would be sending away three people who meant so much to him, and so soon after losing his brothers. The strain of it was showing in his face and even in his body. Katie suddenly felt selfish. They were trying to protect her. Of course, they had a stake in this war.

Just like that, all of Katie's anger fell away. There was no time for that. She would be leaving at dawn, less than twelve hours away. There was so much to get done in that time: packing, saying good-bye to Angelina and Alicia, telling Oliver that she loved him. Katie, more than anybody, knew how precious time was and how easily it was lost. She wasn't going to leave without making sure Oliver knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what he meant to her.

Katie sent a fleeting glance at Oliver. She was so overwhelmed by her emotions, she could hardly stand to look at him for more than a moment. Still hugging herself, she turned clumsily to her room. She needed escape. A moment to collect her thoughts.

"Katie," Oliver called out, his voice gruff.

She turned to him. In three, long strides, Oliver was standing before her. He cupped her cheek, his strong fingers threaded through her hair. There was so much emotion in his brown eyes, all Katie could do was look away for fear that her own feelings would spill over.

"I have to fetch Catriona and Campbell," he said in little more than a whisper. "I'm taking them to Bill Weasley's for the night. May-may I return here afterwards?"

Katie dared to look at Oliver then. He looked vulnerable, as if he were unsure of his welcome. She gave him a small smile, all that she was capable of, and reached up to grasp the hand touching her face.

"Yes," her voice came out raspy and a tear ran down her cheek. "Please come."

Katie would have said more, but her voice caught in her throat. Lightly, Oliver's thumb brushed over her cheek. Then, he leaned in and kissed her softly.

"I'll see you soon," he said before taking his leave.

oOo

The door to Katie's flat opened before Oliver knocked. Angelina and Alicia stood on the other side looking solemn, overnight bags slung over their shoulders.

"We're camping out at the twins' tonight," Angelina said.

"Now I know you're Gryffindors," Oliver said, offering a wan grin.

Both the girls laughed and Angelina said, "Yeah, we're taking our lives in our hands. I guess that we will do anything for our little Katie." She reached up then and gave him a tight hug. "And you, too, Captain."

"Quit hogging the beefcake, slag," Alicia teased. She elbowed Angelina aside so she could give Oliver a hug, too. "We've said our good-byes, she's all yours."

Oliver closed the door behind the two girls, setting the wards with his wand. He didn't put his wand in his pocket; he had gotten in the habit of having it in hand at all times in the last days. He crossed the room to knock on the closed door to Katie's room. When it opened, she stood before him in her dressing gown with damp hair. Her face was obviously scrubbed clean, but her eyes were still red from crying.

Oliver's eyes traveled from Katie's face to the bit of exposed skin at the V of her dressing gown. He gulped, looking past her to the room beyond. It was a quick scan, taking in the opened trunk, the bits and pieces strewn across the floor, one bed pushed to the corner and the other spelled larger.

"Oliver," Katie said softly, her hand traveling up the back of his arm to his shoulder.

Oliver shivered under her touch. He lifted her up, kissing her. Katie's arms went around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist. Her bare legs. There was an urgency in her kiss, like she was trying to take everything he had to offer in one, long, mind-blowing kiss. His body reacted immediately. His skin tightened, his cock grew hard. Merlin, he wanted this woman.

He carried her over to the bed, setting her on the edge and kneeling down between her thighs. Katie's dressing gown was in disarray. The top was gaping open, exposing all the soft skin from the column of her pale neck to the valley between her breasts to the soft, rosy skin of her belly. The bottom was spread open entirely so that he had a view of white knickers and toned legs. Oliver swallowed thickly. So little separated him from having Katie naked beneath him.

"Katie," he said, looking her in the eyes.

She swooped down to kiss him. "Shh, I don't want to waste a moment."

Oliver cupped her face and brought it down for another lingering kiss. "I don't want anything left unsaid…or undone between us. And I have to tell you: I lied when I said I fancied you."

"What?" Katie gasped, jerking back slightly.

"No, wait." Oliver ran a hand through his hair. "I am bollocks-ing this up! What I meant is that I more than fancy you…I love you, Katie."

A soft smile spread across Katie's face, as she stroked his hair. "That's good, Oliver, because I love you, too."

They moved as one onto the bed; Katie laying across it, Oliver kneeling over her. The tie to her dressing gown came away entirely, the garment laying open bearing Katie to Oliver's eyes. She was beautiful. She had full, proud breasts, a little waist and flat belly. Someday, when they had time, he was going to kiss every inch of her soft skin and listen to her moans while he did it.

Katie's hands traveled up his broad back, under his t-shirt, gathering the material as they went. He reared up briefly to fling the shirt off. Then he was covering her head to hip, her naked breasts pressed against his bare chest. Merlin, he loved the feel of her skin against his. Her hands were at the waistband of his track pants, dipping under the elastic to tickle his skin. He growled his pleasure as he kissed her neck and chest.

He'd waited a long time for this moment…

oOo

Later, Katie lay with her head on Oliver's chest, her hand over his heart. His arms were wrapped around her and she could still feel an urgency in his muscles. As if he were ready to protect her at any moment or hold her forever if he could. But even in the sweet euphoria of having just made love to Oliver, Katie knew their time was fleeting.

"We're leaving at dawn?" she asked. Her voice was soft, yet it sounded loud in the silence of the room.

"Aye, that gives us four more hours."

Oliver shifted so that they were laying face to face, his arms still around her. Katie ran her hand over his side to his strong back, snuggling in close. She closed her eyes and breathed him in, not wanting to forget a moment of the next four hours. He smelled of broomstick polish, the wind, and ever-so-slightly of sweat. She pressed a kiss to his warm skin, tasting the salt on it.

"I don't have time to say good-bye to my parents," she said sadly, nuzzling her head into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry for that, lass," he said, stroking her hair. "When you are gone, I'll go to them and tell them what has happened. I'll tell them what I'm telling you now: No news is good news. Don't expect to hear from anybody in England, not from the girls, not from your parents and not from me. It's too dangerous."

Katie sat up slightly, a knot in her chest. "May I write them a letter…to say good-bye?"

"No, I think it best not to leave any paper trail."

"Will they be in danger?"

"Percy has found no evidence that the Ministry is harassing the parents of fugitive Muggleborns yet. He says the government doesn't want to be seen as breaking the International Statute of Secrecy and attract attention from Europe or the States. So, no, I don't think they are in danger, but we are being cautious. Percy and Bill have already cast protective wards around your parents' home and their places of business."

Katie closed her eyes against a wave of hot tears. "Thank you," she whispered. She looked at Oliver then, head cocked. "You must have been very sure that I would leave if Percy and his brother were already taking such precautions."

Oliver looked away. "Percy told me last night that your file was on Umbridge's desk." He looked back at her with a defiant light in his eyes. "I was prepared to do just about anything to make sure you left for France."

Katie narrowed her eyes. "I don't think I like the sound of that."

"You probably shouldn't," he admitted, but there was no remorse in his voice.

She decided to ignore that. It was over with now; she'd decided to go on her own volition. She didn't have time to be angry about things that hadn't happen and she wasn't really sure Oliver was ruthless enough to carry out anyways.

"I have something I wanted to show you," she said, climbing out of bed. She shot a look at him over her shoulder, knowing he was watching her. He grinned back at her cheekily. She found what she was looking for on top of her trunk and bounded back into bed.

"What is this?" he asked, sitting up, the sheet tangled around his hips.

"Colin Creevey sent it to me after the Leaving Ceremony…well, when the Leaving Ceremony was supposed to be, but you know…Anyway, it's some pictures he took of the final Quidditch match."

Oliver opened the leather bound photo album to reveal a picture of Katie on her broom, reaching for Oliver and kissing him after the match. "I remember Colin," he said with a grin. "I remember he was a right pain in the arse."

"He's sweet," Katie replied, leaning against Oliver's shoulder.

"He's talented though," Oliver admitted, flipping through the pages.

There were a handful of pictures of Oliver and Katie together after the match, but before they disappeared. The photos were quite intimate, almost as if Colin had been standing right there as Oliver whispered into Katie's ear, or when Katie touched Oliver's face. The amazing thing was that Colin had been standing on the other side of the room. Katie hadn't even realized that Colin had taken these pictures until he sent the photo album.

"Hm, this looks familiar," Oliver said as he turned the page and found a picture of their Quidditch team from the year they won the House Cup.

"I stuck a few older pictures in the back." The picture he was looking at was taken before their first match, before her birthday party. She realized that she was standing in front of Oliver in the picture and that he was putting his hand on her shoulder over and over again, the only real movement in the picture other than fidgeting and jostling for position.

"I can make a copy of these pictures for you," Katie offered.

"No," he said, closing the book. "I already have a picture of you and I'm going to have to hide that away along with all the pictures of Catriona and Campbell."

There was a bitterness in his voice. They had accidently strayed into dangerous territory. Maybe there was no keeping it light these days, not with the war looming over everyone's heads. She ran her hand over his arm tenderly and looked a question at him.

Oliver sighed. "That's part of the plan. Once Catriona is gone, we figure the Ministry will send some nasty wizards around to find her—Percy calls them 'Snatchers.'" He sneered before continuing, his voice harsh with disgust, "To keep her and the family safe, we have to claim that we threw her out. That we couldn't stand having our brother's Mudblood around anymore, nor their abomination.

"It makes me sick. Catriona is like a sister to me, like a daughter to my parents. I don't like that we have to treat her like a dirty secret and hide away all the evidence that she is part of our family. And my mum, Catriona and the baby leaving coupled with sending Alex back to a Hogwarts run by Snape? It's all too much. Sometimes I wonder if our lives will ever be… _normal_ again."

Katie swallowed hard. The misery in Oliver's face and voice was so apparent. She'd been thinking of this as a war about people like her, Muggleborns, but she could see now how it hurt everybody. Certainly the six months she had lost paled in comparison to what Oliver's family had given.

Not knowing what to say, Katie crawled in Oliver's lap. She rubbed the tense muscles of his shoulders. It felt as though he was carrying the weight of the world.

"You don't have to be the strong one with me here, now," she whispered.

"If I let myself be weak even for a moment, how do I pick up the strength again afterwards?" he asked, looking at her earnestly.

"Oh, Oliver," she sighed, combing her fingers through his hair. "I wish…"

The words died away. Katie buried her face in his neck. She wished she could stay. She wished she could fight. She wished she could be the person who was strong for Oliver. She wished this night would go on forever. But she couldn't have any of that, so it was no use in saying aloud.

"What do you wish, lass?" he asked, his fingers trailing down her spine.

"I wish…I wish…I wish…" Katie nipped his neck. "I wish you would let me shag your brains out until you forgot all about the rest."

Oliver chuckled. He fell back on the bed with Katie atop him. "I can grant that wish."

Katie reared up, her hair in wild disarray around her face. She smirked at him.

"You say you like to watch me fly, yeah?"

One eye brow quirked with interest, his hand traveling over the curve of her bottom. "Aye, I do, Bell."

"Hm, I think I'd like to ride you like a broom, Wood."

oOo

"It's time to go," Oliver said quietly into the dim light of the room.

For a moment, neither of them moved out of the other's arms. They hadn't done more than doze a handful of times in the last few hours. They'd been too busy talking and making love. It was as if they were trying to create enough memories to fill the void of the other's absence. For however long that would be.

This time, there would be no letters back and forth. Once Katie was gone, there would be no telling when Oliver would see her again.

To his surprise, it was Katie who found the strength to get out of bed first. He didn't know why he was surprised. Katie was strong and she was independent. He'd always liked that about her. It was just that, in the last months, he'd become accustom to being the rock everyone else leaned on. It was nice that Katie stood on her own two feet.

With a wave of her wand, the lights grew brighter. Oliver squinted at the sudden glow. For a moment, he watched her gather up clothes and dress, her lovely body being covered one garment at a time. Finally, he followed suit. Once they were both dressed, they each grabbed ahold of one handle of her trunk. Oliver lowered the Anti-Apparition wards, then spun on the spot.

The sun was just breaking over the horizon when they Apparated onto the beach in Tinsworth. Bill Weasley's home was a short trek over the sand. Percy had already told Oliver that this would be the one and only time the Order of Mercy would use this site and only because of Bill's affection for Catriona.

Oliver levitated Katie's trunk, took her hand and led her across the beach. A homey cottage came into view as they crested the hill. Standing fifty yards away were a group of gingers, the unmistakable Fleur Weasley and a small, dark haired girl. The sun was just pinking the sky beyond where the group stood, the sea merrily reflecting the color.

When Oliver and Katie were spotted, Catriona broke away from the rest. Oliver released Katie's hand to embrace his sister-in-law. Catriona's wild hair was blowing on the sea breeze, whipping his face and causing his eyes to water.

Oliver noticed Bill walking up with a sleeping Campbell cradled in his arms. It was the first time Oliver had seen the older wizard since he was mauled by the werewolf, Fenir Greyback. The livid scars that ravaged Bill's face were a shock, to say the least. Oliver did his best to push down his feelings, reminding himself that Bill had been his brother's best mate. He tried to think of what Dougal would say.

"Well," Oliver said, gesturing to his own face and forcing a smile, "that's an improvement."

Bill laughed, one corner of his mouth quirking into a smile. "I'm told it makes me look roguish."

The long haired, ginger wizard shifted the baby into Oliver's arms, who took him easily.

"You do that well," Bill said. "It's never easy to pass a sleeping baby."

"I've been practicing," Oliver replied, gazing down at his nephew. He'd told Campbell that he would buy him his first broomstick, but it occurred to Oliver that he was going to miss the baby's first birthday altogether.

"It will be a few minutes then the Portkey will be ready," Bill advised somberly, then walked away to join his wife.

Oliver kissed the baby's head before passing him into his mother's care.

"Catriona, this is Katie," he said, motioning to the blonde witch who was watching everything unfold in silence. "Katie, this is Catriona and my wee godson, Campbell."

The witches exchanged pleasantries, then Catriona walked away tactfully, leaving Katie and Oliver to have a few moments alone. Oliver took Katie into his arms and kissed her.

"When all of this over," he rasped, leaning his forehead against the top of her head, "I don't want to waste a moment with you, Katie Bell. I want to make you my wife the very second you'll have me."

Katie laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. "Is that a proposal?"

"No, just a wish, but I'll make it a promise if you want me to."

Katie reached up and kissed him. "I'll take your promise, then, Wood."

A very somber Percy walked up, clearing his throat discreetly. "It's time."

Ever circumspect, Percy made himself scarce just as quickly as he appeared. Oliver's heart was heavy as he took Katie's hand one more time. This was for the best, he kept telling himself; she would be safe and Catriona would be looked after. This was for the best.

So why did it hurt so much?

On the beach, Bill seemed to be arguing with the dark haired witch.

"I am worried about the baby safely Portkeying," the witch was saying. She was a slight little thing and barely came up to Bill's shoulder. "I think we should put a sticking charm on his hand so that he won't let go of the object."

"As long as Campbell is strapped to Catriona, he will be fine," Bill retorted, motioning behind him where Fleur was helping Catriona place the baby in the tight sling Oliver had seen her use when he was very small. "She can keep one hand on him for added safety."

"And what about the trunks," the dark haired girl insisted, looking daggers at Bill. There was a feel of familiarity between the two of them, almost sibling-like. Certainly, Bill was doing his best to get a rise out of the girl.

"No problem there, Audrey, I'll shrink them."

The girl pursed her lips. "Those are Hogwarts trunks."

"And?" Bill asked, folding his arms over his chest.

" _And_ they are impervious to shrinking spells."

" _Your_ shrinking spells maybe, but I am a professional curse breaker."

And to prove his point, Bill shrunk both Catriona and Katie's trunks so that they would now fit into their pockets. A pinched look came over the girl's face before she threw her arms in the air and marched to Percy's side. He was kneeling in the sand, checking the Portkey over. When the girl—Audrey-came over, Percy looked up and smiled at her.

The next few moments played impossibly slowly. The witches pocketed their trunks. Catriona said her good-byes, hugging Bill and Fleur. Then she was embracing Oliver and he was kissing the baby one last time. When Catriona walked away, Oliver turned to Katie.

He cupped Katie's face in his hands. Tears were shimmering in her eyes, but they did not fall. She reached up to cover his hands with hers, squeezing gently. One last time, he kissed her.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too." She turned her face and pressed a kiss into his palm. "I'll go the rest of the way on my own."

Katie walked to the Portkey, leaving Oliver to watch from the beach. He felt Percy's hand on his shoulder, gripping it bracingly, but didn't take his eyes off his blonde witch. He wasn't losing her, Oliver told himself. Katie was going to be safe, all he had to do was survive the war and then they would have all the time in the world.

Oliver watched as the Port Key glowed blue and Katie spun out of sight.


End file.
